


Without Fear

by thefangirlingdead



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Assassination Attempt(s), Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Grief/Mourning, Heart-to-Heart, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Infidelity, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Moving On, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Sokka (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar) Needs Therapy, like the slowest of slow burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 82,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26097124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefangirlingdead/pseuds/thefangirlingdead
Summary: Sokka and Zuko help each other heal and (very slowly) fall in love in the years following the end of the war.
Relationships: Aang & Zuko (Avatar), Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 201
Kudos: 316





	1. Chapter 1 - Throw Me In The Deep End

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so here’s the thing. A while back, there was a rumor going around that the Avatar creators confirmed that Suki died young. I’m pretty sure that this ended up being false (?? if I’m not right, please let me know!) but it got me thinking about how Sokka would react to losing yet another person he loved at such a young age… THEN, I saw [THIS](https://soullistrations.tumblr.com/post/621700909745979392/so-apparently-suki-died-young-and-i-am-going-to) incredibly painful post on tumblr and I suddenly needed to write about it. 
> 
> Anyway, I was already kind of working on a small emotional hurt/comfort piece where Sokka is there for Zuko and helps him to move past his traumas after the war ends, but then I thought, “Fuck it, why not both?”. So long story short, this fic is going to cover Sokka dealing with the grief of losing Suki at a young age and healing from the trauma that comes along with being a teenager entrusted to end a 100 year war while Zuko attempts to come to terms with his abusive upbringing while dealing with multiple assassination attempts and the guilt that comes along with taking over the Fire Nation at such a young age. Eventually, they sort of figure out how to heal and move on together, and along the way, fall in love. 
> 
> **A forewarning/trigger warning for y’all, although it isn’t without it’s cute/lighthearted/fluffy moments, this fic will eventually cover the death of a significant character and the mourning/grief process that follows it. It will also contain some brief violence and obviously, lots of emotional heart-to-hearts. Tread lightly. Please let me know if I've forgotten any tags. I will be adding them as the fic is completed.**
> 
> (Normally I don’t like to spoil any plot points, but I feel like this is probably important enough for y’all to know going into it. I also promise that the character death will be treated with dignity and respect and not just used as a plot device to get two characters together. I’m not THAT bad of a writer, and Suki is a fantastic character who deserves nothing but love and respect.)
> 
> ANYWAY, ENJOY!

_Throw me in the deep end  
I’m ready now to swim  
The air in my lungs  
May not last very long but I’m in _

\- [The Deep End](https://open.spotify.com/track/6XVSUWI4FAQTvsTSlxpwOI?si=QnJycZgxT7Cdz8Hj2f-07w) \- Holly Humberstone

* * *

The first assination attempt doesn’t come as a surprise. 

The moment that Zuko took the throne, he knew that he was putting his life, and the lives of those he cared about, in jeopardy. He knew that his father still had supporters who wouldn’t go down without a fight, and he knew it was only a matter of time until they tried to take him out. It was a small price to pay to bring peace back to the world, to begin to right his family’s wrongs and atone for their mistakes. 

So no, the first assination attempt isn’t a surprise. Nor is the second, or the third. Two of the three are ill-planned attempts that don’t even make it past the palace walls or Zuko’s watchful guard. They’re fierce and determined, but messy and clumsy and ultimately, they don’t achieve their goal.

That doesn’t mean that Zuko can sleep any easier. Sure, he expected backlash, but just _knowing_ that there are people out there consistently trying to end his life, trying to bring Ozai back to the throne… it’s enough to lose sleep over. Couple that with the constant scrutiny of Zuko’s council and advisors, as well as low public opinion, and Zuko is lucky if he gets just a few hours of sleep a night. Whenever he closes his eyes, all he can see looking back at him is his father’s hard gaze, or the cold, calculated eyes of the first assassin who attempted to take his life, staring back at him behind bars, or even _Azula_ , mocking him for being so weak. When Zuko tries to sleep, all he can hear are the harsh words yelled at him on the street, by Earth Kingdom citizens in Yu Dao or even his own people just outside his front door. It seems that no matter what he does, he can’t make _anyone_ happy, and that’s easily enough to lose sleep over. 

Mai notices it first. She comments on the dark bags under his eyes and begs him to get some sleep, to relax, insisting that he won’t be able to change the world, nor the opinion of his people in one day. But it’s not that easy, and it has been much longer than _just one day._ He can’t just _sleep,_ not when Yu Dao is on the brink of an all-out war and his citizens feel like he’s making wrong move after wrong move and he’s scared of someone sneaking in his window and killing him at night and deep down, even more afraid of becoming just like his father. 

Zuko expected a challenge when he first took the throne. He just didn’t expect _every_ challenge to come at him all at once. 

So really, it’s no surprise that Mai takes it upon herself to get in contact with Suki, Ty Lee and a small handful of the Kyoshi Warriors to provide some extra security around the palace, if even just for Zuko’s peace of mind. And honestly, it _does_ help having a few friendly faces around. It doesn’t mean he gets much more sleep, but it helps. A little.

However, there’s also the _guilt_ that comes along with seeing Suki and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors guarding the palace. A year ago, he was burning down their village on his suicide mission to capture the Avatar, and now, _they have to protect him._ How fucked up is that? 

So sure, they help, but it doesn’t mean that it gives him the peace of mind that Mai had hoped it would. 

Late one evening, a few weeks after Mai finally ends things with him - and _wow, as if he needed another reason to lose sleep_ \- Zuko surprisingly finds himself _unguarded_ for the first time in a long time, and he takes advantage of it. Although the near-constant protection is comforting, it leaves much to be desired when it comes to _privacy_ , and after three years of exile, having someone following you around at all hours of the day is a culture shock, to say the least. So as Zuko makes his way through the palace, from the throne room to his private quarters, he decides to make a quick detour out to the gardens. 

He’s sure that if _any_ of his guards were around, they’d tell him that he’s being reckless and stupid (hell, he’s sure _Mai_ would say so, too) but he just needs a breath of fresh air. A moment to himself. Some time to _think._

By the time that Zuko arrives at the small pond in the middle of the courtyard, the moon is high in the night sky, illuminating the palace and gardens around him. It’s a mild, peaceful night, and as he takes a seat in the lush grass, he finds himself thinking that it’s the most _peace_ he has had since his coronation. Ironic, really, considering he’s in the process of ending a war, trying to bring balance to both his nation _and_ the Earth Kingdom, and going through a breakup on top of all of it. 

As he sits at the pond, Zuko can’t help but wonder what advice his uncle, or even his mother would give him right now. With every decision that he makes, he has his nation’s best interests in mind, yet he still can’t seem to make everyone happy. Even when he challenges Aang’s convictions, when he insists that the Fire Nation citizens deserve to remain in the Earth Kingdom colonies just as much as the Earth Kingdom citizens do, he feels like he’s letting _someone_ down. All he wants is to be a fair, kind and just leader, to bring peace back to the world and to fix his family’s mistakes, but at every turn, he’s faced with more scrutiny, more hatred and more anger, and he doesn’t know what to do.

With a groan, Zuko pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arm around them. For a moment, he feels like nothing more than a confused teenager again. He feels like he did back in Ba Sing Se, when he didn’t even _know_ what he wanted. He shouldn’t feel like this anymore. It was supposed to be easy, once he let go of his past, yet everything just seems harder than ever. He wants to tear his hair out. He wants to scream. He wants to run away to the Earth Kingdom to be with his uncle and start a new life, but -

But before Zuko can fully flesh out _that_ thought, his brooding is cut short by someone, just a few yards behind him, clearing their throat. 

“Mind if I join you?”

Suki’s gentle voice is a reprieve from the war raging inside of Zuko’s head, and when he turns to look in her direction, he can’t help but gesture for her to sit next to him. Her presence, despite all of his lingering guilt, is comforting. He can understand why Ty Lee so readily joined her and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors. He’s sure if _she_ was here right now, she’d say something about Suki’s calming aura. 

Zuko turns back to the small pond, only speaking once Suki is standing next to him. “How long have you been here?” he asks quietly, wondering if she witnessed his moment of weakness, his almost-breakdown. 

Suki is quiet for a moment before she takes a seat in the grass next to him. She doesn’t look at him when she speaks, and for that, Zuko is silently grateful. “Long enough to tell that you needed a friend,” she replies gently. Then, after a beat, she asks, “Wanna talk about it?”

 _Agni._ Of _course_ Zuko wants to talk about it. He doesn’t want to keep up the facade of the strong, confident, powerful Fire Lord. He wants to break down. He wants to cry himself to sleep. He wants to scream. He wishes his uncle or his mother or the rest of his friends were here to support him, because _fuck,_ he needs it. Instead, he’s left clutching to the broken pieces of a failed relationship, barely hanging onto his sanity and composure by a thread and _now,_ a girl who he tried to _kill_ just a year ago is sitting here next to him asking _if he wants to talk about it._

Fuck, where does he _start?_

Suki, seemingly reading his mind, offers Zuko a soft smile. “You realize that we’re _friends_ now, right Zuko?” she asks. It seems like such a stupid question, but for Zuko, it hits hard. 

He opens his mouth to speak - to apologize or explain himself or finally let it all out or to just tell her not to worry about him - but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything before she’s cutting him off. It’s a welcome thing, though. It brings a sense of normalcy to Zuko’s life. His advisors, his guards, they all walk on eggshells, afraid to speak out of turn, afraid to say the wrong thing because of the fear that his father instilled in them. 

Suki, on the other hand, doesn’t care.

“I know you still beat yourself up over what happened the first time we met,” she says, “And yeah, obviously not the best first impression, but I forgave you a _long_ time ago.”

Zuko’s response is quick. _“I tried to burn down your village.”_

Suki, in return, just laughs softly and says, “We all did stupid things when we were younger.”

“That was literally a _year_ ago,” Zuko deadpans. “And I don’t know if _doing stupid things_ extends to arson and attempted murder.”

She just shrugs, then leans back on her hands in the grass, relaxing. “Things change. _People_ change.” She looks at him then, _really_ looks at him properly for the first time since sitting down, and offers a smile. “I’m proud to call you my friend, now.”

Zuko just sighs in response. Suki’s words should make him feel better, _and they do,_ a little bit, but he can’t help the residual guilt that settles in his gut. He can’t help but wonder if in a year from now, he’ll regret all the choices that he’s been making these past few weeks and months. Who’s to say if he’s making the right call, now? Surely, his father and his grandfather and his great grandfather all thought that _their_ actions were justified. What makes _him_ any different?

Once more, Suki shakes him out of his thoughts when she speaks. 

“Did you know that Avatar Kyoshi’s best friend - her _lover_ \- was a firebender?”

The question catches him off guard. He looks at Suki, his eyes wide, unsure of how to respond, and she just laughs. 

“I mean, I like you Zuko, but I’m perfectly happy with Sokka,” she teases gently. “What I’m trying to say is, this is how things _used_ to be: the nations living together in harmony. I know it might not always feel like it, but you’re doing a good job. _Trust me.”_

Something about Suki’s words - her hope, her optimism, the fact that _she_ of all people is sitting here with him, giving him a second chance, _encouraging him_ \- finally makes Zuko _break._ He curls in on himself again as he mutters, “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like it.”

Suki hums thoughtfully. If she’s surprised to see Zuko like _this_ , she doesn’t comment on it. She doesn’t make him feel lesser. He appreciates it. 

“I think it’s going to be a long road to recovery,” she muses, “But you’re doing the right thing.”

Zuko’s jaw clenches. He wants to speak, wants to spill it all, but he’s afraid that he’ll break down if he does. So instead, he just says, voice clipped, “Sometimes, it feels like I’m going to spend my entire life trying to right my family’s wrongs.”

He doesn’t exactly know _why_ he says _that,_ of all things, but he supposes that it’s because it is at the forefront of his mind. Every choice he makes, he makes it because he’s trying to leave this world better than he found it. And every choice he makes not only affects his life, but the lives of his citizens, the lives of everyone, across all four nations. It’s a heavy burden, and ultimately, _that’s_ what keeps Zuko up at night. The assasination attempts and the harsh words and the scrutiny all get to him, too, but the sense of responsibility is what weighs heaviest. 

Suki, however, seems to have a much more optimistic outlook on things. He’s sure that’s why Sokka loves her so much. “I don’t think it’ll take that long,” she assures, “You’re a pretty likeable guy.”

Zuko snorts out a short laugh. “I’m pretty sure you’re the first person to say that to me.”

At that, Suki stands, brushing the grass and dirt off of herself before offering a hand to Zuko. She chooses to ignore his self-deprecating comment and instead, simply says, “Come on, Fire Lord. You need some rest.” 

Zuko doesn’t hesitate before taking her hand, silently grateful for people like Suki. Maybe, with her around, he’ll actually make it through this.

* * *

Another year passes, a fourth, then fifth, and even a _sixth_ assanation attempt comes and goes, and the Kyoshi Warriors prove themselves more than capable of watching over the Fire Lord. The seventh assanation attempt, which occurs just shy of three years after his coronation, however, is an entirely different story. 

It happens when Zuko is up late, working in his study. He really _should_ be sleeping, and that’s what Suki had _said_ to him at least two hours ago, but he needs to finalize some paperwork for a long meeting tomorrow, and he won’t rest until it’s perfect. Ever since returning from Hira’a with his mother, Ikem and Kiyi a few months ago, the palace has been in utter _chaos._ He knows that his citizens’ faith in him is shaken, that they don’t trust a _teenager,_ especially one who seems so _weak_ to rule the nation, and the last thing he needs to do is slack off in an important meeting or say the wrong thing in front of his council. He needs to be on top of his game, and he _knows_ that doing so will involve getting a good night’s sleep, but he can do that _after_ he finishes working. 

Ultimately, that’s Zuko’s downfall. He’s tired and stretched too thin. He doesn’t sense the attack coming until it’s too late. Not until he hears the shouting of the Kyoshi Warriors outside of his study door - until he hears the telltale _thud_ of bodies hitting the ground.

Zuko is quick to stand, assuming a fighting position, but it all happens too fast. He’s too busy watching the _door,_ assuming the attacker will enter as soon as the guards are incapacitated, and doesn’t see the movement outside the window, doesn’t hear the footsteps on the roof until it’s too late. 

The first attacker makes their presence known immediately by smashing in through the large window of Zuko’s study. Books and important documents be damned, Zuko quickly spins on his heel and punches two fire blasts in the direction of the assailant, just narrowly missing them. The smell of singed hair and burnt cloth fills the air. They’re swift, charging at Zuko with a long dagger, but they give themselves away too quickly. Even in the dim light of the small study, he spies an opening and takes it, delivering another blast of fire that they’re forced to dodge, sending them right into his range of motion. He uses their momentum against them, pulling the blade from their hands and slamming their head up against his desk. Only once they go limp and fall to the ground does he relax, and that’s his _second_ mistake. 

The second attacker is quieter and quicker, but the sound of boots on broken glass gives them away. Zuko only has enough time to turn to block them with another blow of fire, arching tall across the study, leaving wood and books burning in its wake. In the red glow of the burning room, Zuko gets a decent look at them. Like the first attacker, they’re dressed in all black, only their bronze eyes visible. But _unlike_ the unconscious assailant before them, they’re not wielding a small dagger. Instead, they’re gripping Zuko’s weapon of choice - dual broadswords. It’s a poor choice for such close quarters, but in the right hands, the swords can still be lethal. 

When Zuko’s opponent strikes once more, there’s no denying that they know how to use them. 

Zuko shouts for his guards, hoping that they can hear him from beyond the heavy wooden door, then goes on the offensive. Without another weapon readily available, Zuko grips the first attacker’s dagger in his hand, blocking and parrying his opponent’s heavy blows. It’s clear that they haven’t trained with their swords in the way that Zuko has, but what they lack in precision, they make up for in brute strength. They have at least an inch, if not two on Zuko, and with a reach advantage coupled with longer blades, it renders his small dagger virtually useless. 

_“Guards!”_ Zuko shouts once more, as he evades another attack. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up, and unless he can disarm his assailant or - _fuck_ \- burn the whole study down around them, he knows he won’t be making it out of this alive. 

“Shout all you want,” his attacker taunts, speaking for the first time, “Nobody is coming.” Their voice is gruff behind their face covering, and Zuko can’t help but wonder how old they are, who they might be. Is it one of his father’s old advisors? Or maybe it’s a veteran who feels betrayed by the new Fire Lord’s weakness. Whoever it is, they don’t give Zuko much time to think about it before they’re advancing once more. 

Zuko, nearly cornered and out of options, throws his chair in the attacker’s direction in an attempt to slow them down as he makes a break for the door. He doesn’t know what waits for him on the other side, if someone else is already anticipating his escape and will cut him off as soon as he tries, but he can’t just stay in this room to die

In a few quick strides, Zuko attempts to cross the room, throwing a few fire blasts in the general direction of his assailant, but they’re quick to dodge his attacks, and before he knows it, he’s being tackled, face down to the ground, dagger flying from his hands. With a groan, Zuko turns, attempting to reach for the blade, but the other man knocks it just out of his reach. Zuko knows that he’s outmatched - the other man is heavier and larger than him and can easily pin him to the ground - but he’s not going down without a fight. As the other man reaches forward to push the dagger further out of his reach, Zuko throws his arm back, his elbow connecting with the assassin’s face.

The man cries out in pain but quickly recovers, grappling for a good hold on Zuko, grumbling, _“You little shit -”_

Zuko continues to fight, to try to shift his body weight and break free from the other man’s grappling, but he’s at a disadvantage, pinned face down by his attacker’s weight, and it isn’t long before a hand finds its way into his hair, pulling roughly to wrench his head up and backwards.

Zuko doesn’t know what causes him to gasp with surprise - whether it’s the sharp pain of the man ripping at his hair, yanking his head up in an unnatural position, or whether it’s the deadly blade that suddenly presses to his neck. Either way, he knows without a doubt that this isn’t a bluff. This isn’t like the time that he nearly captured Aang on the day of the solstice, holding a blade up to _his_ throat as a thinly veiled threat to his friends. Zuko never had the intention of _killing_ anyone. This man, though… 

“I’m going to enjoy slitting your throat, _Fire Lord,”_ the assassin growls, pressing the blade dangerously into Zuko’s skin, hard enough to draw blood. Zuko hisses in pain, but keeps his jaw locked. If he’s going to die like this, he’ll do it with dignity. He refuses to beg for his life, to give this man the satisfaction of knowing that he’s about to kill a scared, nineteen year old boy

Zuko closes his eyes, awaiting the inevitable, but it doesn’t come.

Everything happens so fast. 

The blade presses into his throat, Zuko sucks in a deep breath, and then - _nothing._ _Then,_ the door to his study is flying open, someone is shouting his name and then, the attacker is going limp and falling to the ground next to him.

Zuko… doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t breathe, he just _lays there,_ clutching at the cut on his neck, eyes open but unseeing. The only thing that eventually brings him back down to earth is a pair of sturdy hands on his shoulders, hauling him upwards so fast that it makes his head spin. 

_“-uko! Zuko! Hey, can you hear me? Are you alright?”_ a voice is calling out to him, but it takes him a moment to register it, to realize that it’s coming from the person who’s holding him upright. He turns, his eyes slowly focusing on the world around him, and he forces himself to focus on the person speaking to him.

Even through a haze of shock, Zuko can still recognize Suki beneath her warrior makeup. She’s looking at him with wide eyes, and for a moment, Zuko thinks that she looks just as scared as he _felt_ a moment ago. It’s not often that he sees Suki, someone so poised and calm and collected, like this. 

Zuko was forced to deal with violence and death and destruction and _trauma_ from a young age. He hates that this is true, but it is, so thankfully, he manages to calm himself enough to speak, even if his hands still tremble. 

“I’m okay,” he croaks, “I’m fine, I just -”

Zuko makes the mistake of moving his hands from his throat and watches as Suki’s eyes widen once more at the sight. He’s sure it looks much more grizzly than it is. While the blade definitely pierced his skin, the cut isn’t deep, and he assures Suki of such, even as she tears a strip of cloth from her own robes and presses it to his skin. 

“I’m fine,” he repeats, then, _“Thank you.”_

And as Suki slowly helps him to his feet, saying something about arresting the two would-be assassins and finding Zuko a healer, Zuko can’t help but think of a conversation they had when she first arrived in the Fire Nation, sitting outside by his mother’s favorite pond. 

_“You realize that we’re friends now, right Zuko?”_

He’s not really sure what he did to deserve someone like Suki - or _any_ of his friends for that matter - but he’s eternally grateful for whichever god or spirit brought them to him.

* * *

Two weeks later, however, he’s feeling a little less grateful. 

It’s easy to keep the news from the general public - Zuko already doesn’t make _too many_ public appearances as is - but keeping the attempted assanation secret from his cabinet proves difficult, if not damn near impossible. If the bandage on Zuko’s neck wasn’t already a dead giveaway, then the hushed whispers in the halls, the kitchen, and even the council room _are._ Word gets around quick in the palace and people _talk._

Zuko sees no reason to address it. Nobody asks him about it directly, and as long as it stays that way, then they won’t be speaking of it. The assailants have been interrogated and are being dealt with, and that’s all that matters.

Well, that, and the fact that Zuko is _alive._

Suki tries to talk to him about it three days after the attack, but it doesn’t go well. Or at least, not as well as _she_ had been hoping, probably. 

It’s not that Zuko doesn’t appreciate the sentiment - _she cares,_ and he can acknowledge that - there’s nothing to talk about. By the age of sixteen, nearly everyone in their group - Aang, Katara, Sokka, Toph and Suki - had lived through their own near-death experiences, some more violent and traumatizing than others. Some more _frequent_ than others. 

(Zuko can still distinctly remember the smell of burning skin and the roar of the crowd before he lost consciousness when he was just thirteen years old. He can also remember the way his ears rang for nearly a week following the explosion on his ship, three years later. He can remember the bitter cold of the North Pole, and can even recall the drop in his gut as he fell in the Westen Air Temple, just before he landed on Appa’s saddle, not to mention the itching electricity coursing through his body after Azula shot him full of lightning... And _okay,_ maybe Zuko has had more near-death experiences than most, but the point still stands.)

Suki tries to talk to him about it after the fact, and Zuko wouldn’t necessarily say that he shuts her down, but he certainly doesn’t _let her in,_ either. Instead, he flips the conversation, asking how her warriors are recovering. (Because _thankfully,_ the assailants just incpacatated them, rather than killing them.) And Suki is smart - he’s sure that she _knows_ he’s avoiding the conversation, but she doesn’t force his hand. She doesn’t _make him_ talk about it. 

She _does,_ however, get in contact with some people who _can._

Two weeks after the attack, when the long cut on Zuko’s throat is nothing more than a thin scab that likely won’t even scar, he is surprised when one of his assistants notifies him that the _Avatar_ has requested a presence with him. 

The walk from his chambers to the palace entrance isn’t long, and Zuko is surprised when he discovers not only Aang, but also Katara _and_ Sokka waiting for him outside. Suki stands just off to the side, a small, apologetic smile on her face, and Zuko already knows that she _must_ be behind this. He doesn’t know if he should thank her or be angry. Only time will tell, he supposes. 

Despite their underlying reason for arriving unannounced on his doorstep, Zuko can’t help but smile upon laying eyes on his friends - friends he hasn’t seen in well over six months.

“Aang, Katara, Sokka,” Zuko says warmly as he steps forward to embrace them. “I had no idea you were coming. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Aang, he notices, looks pointedly at the scab on his throat as he speaks, and he wants nothing more than to pull his collar up, to conceal the evidence of his weakness. 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Aang says, voice soft.

He’s dancing around the subject. He won’t say it outright, but Zuko _knows_ why they’re here. He didn’t want to involve them, but it seems that they’ve involved themselves. 

Still, he asks, “What are you talking about?”

Thankfully, Sokka, less tactful and more straight-to-the point, cuts in. (He’s sure that later, if he asked the other man about it, he’d jerk a thumb at his chest and say something along the lines of, _“I’m the straight shooting guy!”)_

“Uh… Someone is trying to _kill you,”_ Sokka says as if Zuko doesn’t know it already himself, as if he isn’t wearing the evidence of it across his throat. “We’re here to help.” 


	2. Chapter 2 - I Don't Wanna Be Myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't initially plan on updating this fast, but I was really excited to get this chapter up because it actually has some interaction between Sokka and Zuko. I'll probably stick to updating weekly/every other week in the future.
> 
> Enjoy!

_I don't wanna be myself  
It's making me so unwell  
I don't wanna be myself  
Just wanna be someone else  
_

-"[Soda](https://open.spotify.com/track/3PUnku87booODLtX6VVHwN?si=GscMXSLLSLyBccLud_8BVA)" - Nothing But Thieves

* * *

The walk to the war room - now repurposed as a council room, with a table long enough to fit Zuko’s entire cabinet - is long and quiet. Zuko leads the way while Aang, Katara and Sokka trail behind with Suki, and two of Zuko’s personal guards right behind them. The mood is heavy, and Zuko _hates_ it. It has been well over six months since the last time he saw his three friends, and although in the grand scheme of things, that really isn’t very long, he’d rather be catching up with them than doing… whatever _this_ is. 

In the three years since the end of the war, they’ve all grown so much. Aang is the most noticeable. No longer the naive, optimistic twelve year old, Aang seems _so grown up_ now, even though he’s still just fifteen fifteen years old (and still incredibly chipper and upbeat). Though, Zuko thinks, he was more grown up than most teenagers when _he_ was just fifteen, as well. Physically, Aang has _sprouted_ as well, nearly just as tall as Katara even though she has two years on him. Like Aang, Katara has grown quite a bit in the past three years, too. The baby fat around her cheeks has all but disappeared and she carries herself a bit taller, more confidently. 

Sokka is… _Sokka._ In some ways, he looks just the way that Zuko remembers when they were just two awkward sixteen year olds, but in others, he appears to have grown and changed more than his friends. He still sports his signature undercut with his long hair tied up into a wolftail with a leather band, but the first thing that Zuko notices is a thin braid, adorned with a couple of blue and white beads, tied up with the rest of his loose hair. The second thing that catches his eye is the thin shard of whalebone pierced directly through the cartilage in his left ear - _that_ certainly wasn’t there the last time he saw him - and the third is the other boy’s muscle definition. Sure, it hasn’t even been a year since the last time they saw each other, but it appears that Sokka has been _busy_ during that time. 

Not that Zuko _notices,_ or anything. They’ve all just grown up, is all.

Shaking that thought from his head, Zuko steps to the side as the guards open the double doors to the council room, allowing his friends to enter before him. Suki passes by last, shooting Zuko a loaded gaze that says something along the lines of _go easy on them_ , before she joins the others. She has been silent ever since their friends arrived and Zuko can sense a long conversation with her coming in the near future, but now isn’t the time. Now, they need to discuss things. 

Zuko takes a seat at the long table across from his friends - not at the head, that feels _too_ formal - and folds his hands in front of him. He’s unsure of _what_ exactly Suki told the rest of them, but judging by the mood when he first greeted them, he’s sure he doesn’t need to fill them in on much. 

“I’m sure there is a lot that you’d like to talk about,” Zuko says as soon as the heavy double doors close behind them, effectively sealing them off from the rest of the palace. Other than Suki, who sits at the table next to Sokka, the only other people in the room are two of Zuko’s most trusted guards. Whatever happens in this room, they will take to their graves. He trusts them with his life. 

_“Yeah, we do,”_ Katara shoots back quickly. Her tone is loaded, obviously on edge, and Aang places a hand on her arm in an attempt to calm her, if even just a little. 

“I think what Katara is _trying_ to say is that we’re concerned about you, Zuko,” Aang cuts in gently, “When we heard what happened, we were shocked, to say the least, that you hadn’t reached out to us yet.”

“I appreciate your concern, and I’m grateful that you came, but believe me - I have this under control,” Zuko replies in a calm, measured tone. 

Deep down, he knows that he _doesn’t_ have this under control, but _they_ don’t need to know that. 

Unfortunately, his lie doesn’t go over very well with his friends. Katara’s shock and outrage is written clear as day all across her face. Even Aang looks surprised. Sokka is looking right at him, but he’s a bit harder to read. Either way, his eyes still feel like they’re burning holes through him. 

“Someone literally tried to _slit your throat,_ Zuko,” Katara argues, voice hard. She’s always been the one to speak out when something isn’t right, and it’s refreshing to see that _that_ hasn’t changed in the past three years. It’s just unfortunate that Zuko is on the receiving end of her anger and frustration once more. 

“Katara -” he starts, but doesn’t get to finish. 

“Don’t give me some bullshit about how you have this under control,” she argues, beating him to the punch, “I know you _don’t._ Suki wouldn’t have written to us if she didn’t think you needed help.”

For the first time since sitting down, Zuko turns to look at Suki, who meets his gaze with a tentative, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Zuko,” she cuts in, “But I couldn’t just stand by and wait for something else to happen. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if -”

She cuts herself off, but Zuko knows where she was going with that. After all, she had been the first to arrive the night of the most recent assassination attempt. If it weren’t for her, he likely would have bled out on the floor of his study. She did this because she cares. He has to keep reminding himself of this.

He takes a deep breath, knowing that he needs to tread lightly, here. These are his _friends,_ he reminds himself, not his advisors. Not his guards. These people _care_ about him.

Three years in, and he sometimes still finds that hard to believe. 

“I know,” he replies gently, “And like I said, I appreciate your concern, but if word gets out that the _Avatar_ is here, trying to hunt down the group that attempted to assassinate me, it isn’t going to make things _better.”_

Aang opens his mouth to speak, but Zuko cuts him off, explaining, “They’re the same group that has been after me since my coronation. They’re Ozai supporters, and they hate me because they think that I’m _weak -_ that I’m not capable of leading the Fire Nation the way my father would have. If they find out that I called you here, it will only prove them right.”

“Asking your friends for help isn’t a sign of weakness!” Aang argues, and _okay_ , maybe some things _haven’t_ changed. Zuko knows that he’s right, but -

“They don’t see it that way,” he counters. “I’m sorry, Aang. I really appreciate you all coming, but I _can’t_ have you getting involved. It won’t end well. _Trust me.”_

Aang doesn’t look happy with his argument, but before he has a chance to counter Zuko once more, Sokka speaks up. 

“He has a point, you know,” he says, glancing in Aang’s direction. Silently, Zuko is grateful for Sokka’s level head. Although sometimes, he can come off as the lighthearted yin to Katara’s serious yang, most of the time he’s practical, level-headed the glue that holds their group together. 

“Besides,” Sokka continues, “Wouldn’t we just be showing all of our cards if we made it apparent that we’re launching an investigation? If we’re going to go after them, we’re doing it in secret. _Obviously.”_

Zuko deflates. He expected Sokka of all people to defend him, but it appears he’s on Aang and Katara’s side on this one. He shouldn’t be surprised. After all, it _was_ his girlfriend who summoned them.

“We’re _not_ going after them,” Zuko bites, exasperated, “I already have some of my most trusted guards _and_ Suki’s best warriors on it. _It’s fine.”_

“It’s _not_ fine, Zuko!” Katara shouts. Apparently, she has finally had enough. “We’re your _friends._ Let us help you.”

“Yelling at him isn’t really going to help things, either,” Sokka cuts in, clearly trying to play both sides. Alright, maybe he _does_ make a good mediator, because he seems to get Katara to take a few deep breaths. “Why don’t we just find a good middle ground?” he suggests after a beat of silence. 

Zuko groans and opens his mouth to argue, but stops himself short. He knows that if his uncle were here, he’d tell him to hear Sokka out. So after a moment to gather himself, he asks, “What do you suggest?”

Sokka hums thoughtfully, clearly formulating a plan. Zuko can practically see the gears turning in his head, and when he seems to _get it,_ his face lights up and he snaps his fingers.

“Well, _you_ didn’t even know that we were coming, so we’ve already got the element of surprise on our side,” Sokka explains. “These people probably don’t even know we’re here yet, and even if they do, for all they know, your friends just came to visit. Why don’t we let them believe that?”

 _“And then what?”_ Zuko asks incredulously, “Under the cover of darkness try to go hunt down some Ozai supporters?” 

“Well… _yeah,”_ Sokka retorts with a smirk, which quickly falls when he corrects himself, “I mean. No. When you say it like that, it sounds stupid. We would need to gather some intel first -”

“Sokka -”

 _“Oh!”_ Sokka exclaims, cutting him off, “It’s the perfect opportunity to go undercover again! I have the best disguise!”

Katara and Aang both groan in unison. Suki stifles a laugh. 

Zuko… doesn’t know what to say. 

He won’t deny Sokka’s intelligence. They _are_ at an advantage, here. If they play their cards right, this _could_ work well in their favor. If they don’t - _well,_ he knows what’s at stake. 

Zuko sighs. “Fine. You can help. _Quietly._ And if things get messy, you stand down. _Understood?”_

Katara and Aang both open their mouths to speak - likely to argue that the reason that they’re here is because things already _are_ messy - but before they have a chance to speak, Sokka is talking over them. “Aye aye captain!” he exclaims, “Uh. Fire Lord. Sir.”

And Zuko can’t help but snort out a laugh in response. At the very least, it’ll be nice to have some friendly faces around for a while.

* * *

After their _meeting,_ Zuko and his friends finally have some time to catch up with one another. Zuko uses the Avatar’s unexpected visit as an excuse to cancel the rest of his meetings for the day, and they spend the rest of the afternoon swapping stories and filling each other in on the events of the past six months. Zuko does more listening than talking, but that’s okay. He doesn’t have much to tell, and it’s _much_ more interesting listening to Aang talk about his time working with the Air Acolytes and Katara’s work with the Southern waterbenders, Toph’s metalbending academy, or even hearing Sokka rattle on about all of the changes in the South Pole. 

Dinner, which seems to arrive quickly after they spend all afternoon playing catchup, is an extravagant affair. The Avatar and his friends are _visiting,_ after all. If they’re _really_ going to go through with Sokka’s ridiculous plan, then Zuko might as well play the part. (And his friends certainly aren’t going to complain if the cooks go all out on their festive “welcome back” dinner.

Zuko retires early that evening after showing his friends to their rooms with a promise to meet once more in the morning, but after a few hours of tossing and turning, he gives up on sleep. If he’s being honest, he has been having a difficult time sleeping soundly ever since the last assaassination attempt. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can see are the burning book shelves of his study, engulfed in a large arch of fire that he threw at the assassin just before he was tackled to the ground. Every time he attempts to get some sleep, he just sees those angry, amber eyes looking back at him in the darkness. They’re not just the eyes of the man who pressed a blade into his throat and nearly ended his short life, either - they’re the eyes of every Fire Nation citizen that Zuko feels he has let down, every soldier who doesn’t side with his decision to pull back the troops and end the war, every business owner who feels that they have been negatively affected by his more progressive policies. Those angry eyes looking back at him are so much more than a man who tried to kill him; they’re the eyes of every single person that Zuko has wronged, either knowingly or unintentionally, in his life. It doesn’t matter if those eyes are gold or green or blue or even the soft gray of an airbender. They all say the same thing: 

_You’ve failed us. You’re a disappointment. A traitor. You’re just like your father. You’ll never be as strong as your father._

Zuko sits straight up in bed, a frustrated groan falling from his lips. Rationally, he _knows_ that he’s doing his best, that not _everyone_ in the world is upset with or disappointed in him (his friends obviously care about him) but Zuko _isn’t_ in a rational state of mind, right now. He hasn’t been for months, honestly. Maybe even since he first took the throne. 

He scrubs his hands over his face and digs his knuckles into his eyes, willing the painful images away from his mind and pressing until he sees stars. Then, when he trusts himself enough to stand without stumbling or crumpling to his knees, Zuko gets up and out of bed. With a flick of his wrist, he lights the torches in his bedroom, keeping the fire low, but bright enough for him to get dressed and tie his hair up in a messy bun before he quietly crosses the room and grabs his broadswords from where they hang on the wall. Lately, they’ve been found in his possession more and more often, rather than serving as decorative flair. 

When Zuko eventually opens his bedroom door, he’s met with the unflinching, unsurprised gaze of the two Kyoshi Warriors standing guard. Both of them have become accustomed to Zuko’s nightly trips to the training grounds, and as he walks through the dimly lit palace hallways, the two women trailing quietly behind him, he tries not to feel ashamed or embarrassed that this has become so common that even his guards don’t question it anymore. He tells himself that he does this because training wears him out and helps him get a good night’s sleep, that he trains at such a late hour because he simply doesn’t have the time otherwise. There _is_ some truth to that, but the fact of the matter is, he has taken to training with his broadswords more frequently ever since the latest assassination attempt. Something about the way that the other man overpowered him with his own weapon of choice _did something to him._ It made him feel weak. Powerless. Terrified, like a small child again - the same way he felt when his own father put a hand to his cheek and promised that he would learn respect through suffering. 

Zuko _never_ wants to feel that way again. He thought that once his father was behind bars, once he was safe from the torment of his sister, once he ended the war and helped to bring peace to the world that he _wouldn’t,_ but in some ways, he feels like nothing has changed. Sure, a few years have gone by and the world _is_ slowly healing, but it feels as if Zuko just swapped one problem for another, one enemy for another. 

When he steps into the empty training room, though, he feels himself deflate a little. The room is only accessible by one entrance and exit, and both Kyoshi Warriors remain posted next to it. This is a safe space. It’s something that he _can_ control. Somewhere that he still feels powerful. 

Zuko raises a hand and takes a deep breath, and the torches lining the arena’s walls come to life. Despite the fact that it’s well past midnight, the room is well lit and even feels warm and welcoming as Zuko steps into the center of the arena. 

There are still a couple of training dummies set up from the last time that Zuko had an impromptu late-night training session, and it doesn’t take long before he’s hacking at them with deadly precision and speed. Watching him, one might think that Zuko is angry, that he’s taking his rage out on the dummies, especially considering how late it is, but in reality, it is actually the calmest and most clear of mind that Zuko has felt in _weeks._ He focuses on nothing but his movements, the way that his swords act like an extension of his body, from the tip of his toes to the tip of the blade. He closes his eyes and just _moves_ , and for a moment, nothing else matters. He feels centered. 

Zuko feels this way when he firebends as well, but lately, he has felt more connected to his broadswords. Whether that’s because of the recent attack or not, he doesn’t know. He _does_ acknowledge, though, that the swords have always been something that he has been able to control. They’ve never been a source of pain or suffering or anguish for him. They were something that were _his_ and his alone, especially among a family of skilled, dangerous firebenders. This is something that they can’t touch, and somehow, that means a bit more to him. Of course, Zuko wouldn’t be who he is without his inner fire, but his skill with a sword makes up just as much of his identity as his firebending does, and right now, _this_ is what he needs. 

Zuko doesn’t keep track of the time when he’s training, at least not when it’s late like this and he has nowhere to be, so he’s not quite sure how much time passes before something _shifts_. The air in the room seems to change, discharging and becoming less electric when he hears the telltale creak of the door opening, and he freezes, his back to the entrance, his calm suddenly broken. He waits for the moment to break, for the Kyoshi warriors to apprehend the intruder or at the very least, call out for him, but -

_They don’t._

When Zuko turns, blades at the ready, heart suddenly racing, he’s surprised to discover none other than _Sokka_ standing in the doorway, eyes wide, lips parted. He’s dressed down in casual, loose-fitting pants and a sleeveless blue top with a low neckline - a contrast to the fur-trimmed, traditional water tribe outfit that he had been wearing when he arrived earlier.

Zuko feels himself deflate at the sight. _“Sokka.”_

His tone isn’t chastising or angry by any means, but it still earns him a sheepish smile from the other man, who glances at the Kyoshi Warriors, then back to him. “Zuko. Ladies. Sorry to interrupt. I wasn’t really expecting to find anyone else here…”

Zuko lowers his weapons and relaxes his posture slightly in an inviting manner. One of his advisors once told him that sometimes, he can come off as tense and unapproachable, and it can make _peace meetings_ a little… difficult, to say the least. He has been acutely aware of how he holds himself ever since. “What _are_ you doing here?” he asks, attempting to keep his tone light and teasing, rather than accusatory, “How did you even know about this room?”

Sokka grins, patting at the leather strap that crosses his chest, and it’s then that Zuko notices he has his sword with him. “Suki showed me around, earlier,” he explains, “I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I’d train a little…” 

Sokka glances around the room before lowering his voice and stage-whispering, _“You know, for our mission.”_

It takes all of Zuko’s willpower not to facepalm at Sokka’s words and instead, he offers his friend a fond eye-roll instead. “So you thought you’d get an early start by sneaking around the palace?”

“Pretty much!” Sokka retorts, stepping forward into the arena. He stops short after just a couple of steps, though, and offers Zuko a quizzical look. “Wait - what are _you_ doing here? It’s pretty late -

 _Right._ Zuko averts his gaze, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. Unlike Sokka, he doesn’t have some ridiculous, perfectly in-character excuse for being up and hacking away at practice dummies at such an hour. The last thing he really wants to do is open up about his insomnia to his friend, but he doesn’t really know _what_ to say. 

For some reason, Zuko has always felt the most comfortable around Sokka, though. He can’t pinpoint an exact time that he and the Water Tribe warrior began growing closer, but if he had to guess, it was sometime after their suicide mission to the Boiling Rock together. Shortly after that trip, he and Sokka began sparring together regularly, spending the evenings practicing in the Western Air Temple, then when they were out on the road, and even a few times when they were hiding out on Ember Island. Between sparring sessions, the two of them connected easily over their similarities. They both felt overshadowed by talented younger sisters, both never really had the connection they wanted with their father, both lost their mothers at a young age. Obviously, their situations weren’t identical - it’s impossible to compare an abusive, sadistic monster to a man who was forced to go off to war, and the pain of a mother’s _death_ stings differently than wondering whatever _happened_ to your mother - but they still bonded over their shared traumas _and_ shared interests. A fucked up scenario, when you really think about it, but Zuko is grateful that he has a friend like Sokka - someone who really gets him. 

So when Sokka asks why he’s up late, training by himself, Zuko is still a _little_ embarrassed, but doesn’t feel ashamed to admit, “I couldn’t sleep, either. Figured this would take my mind off of things.”

He doesn’t have to spell it out for him. Judging by the look of understanding on Sokka’s face, he knows what Zuko means, and he doesn’t push the subject. Instead, he just offers him a gentle smile and asks, “Mind if I join you?”

* * *

Sparring with Sokka has the same effect on Zuko that practicing _alone_ does. In fact, it actually makes him feel a bit better. While slicing at training dummies felt a bit like meditation, training with Sokka helps to keep his mind busy and keep him on his toes. He can’t get caught drifting, doesn’t have the chance to worry about what might be waiting for him a day, a week or a month from now. One distraction, one slip-up, and Sokka will easily put him on his ass

In fact, he _does_ a couple of times.

It has been quite some time since they’ve sparred together - distance and peace and duties will do that - and it takes a few rounds before Zuko finally taps into muscle memory. After a few rounds, he remembers the way that Sokka moves when he fights, can recall his weak spots where his defense could use some work, and eventually, he gets the water tribesman to yield a few times, too. 

Zuko isn’t sure how long they spar for, but by the time they decide to take a much needed break, they’re both panting with exertion and covered in sweat. Zuko’s muscles ache, and as he takes a seat next to Sokka in the middle of the arena, passing a skin of water his way, he finds himself thinking that this is _exactly_ what he needed. Not just physically - training with Sokka makes him realize just how rusty he’s gotten - but emotionally as well. Zuko realizes, as he sits next to Sokka, that maybe he _does_ need his friends here, even if it’s just to make him feel _normal_ again. He feels stupid for almost sending them on their way, earlier. 

The silence between them as they both cool off is comfortable. It isn’t the loaded silences that Zuko has become accustomed to, under the watchful eyes of advisors and councilmen and his citizens. Sitting next to Sokka on the floor of the training room, Zuko actually feels _normal_ for the first time in a long time. It feels nice. 

Eventually, Sokka breaks that silence, though. He doesn’t tiptoe around things, doesn’t use the gentle tone that Suki has been using ever since that night in his study. Blunt and to the point, he just asks, “Real talk - are you okay?”

Zuko wants to laugh. He wants to tell Sokka that _fuck no,_ he’s not okay. _Nothing_ is okay. But instead, he just turns to his friend, who is looking at him with watchful eyes and says, “I’m fine, Sokka.”

It’s clear that Sokka doesn’t buy it, but he doesn’t come outright and say that. At least, not yet. Instead, he seemingly shifts the subject. “It’s nearly two in the morning,” he says, “Don’t you have… you know, _Fire Lord_ duties, or whatever in the morning?”

Zuko opens then closes his mouth, unsure of what to say, what Sokka _wants_ him to say. Eventually, he settles on, “I’ll be fine.” It isn’t until he says it that he realizes that it was Sokka’s roundabout way of trying to trick him into talking about things. When _that_ doesn’t work, he gets a little bit more blunt. 

“Let me rephrase this,” Sokka says, fixing Zuko with a steady gaze, _“You don’t look okay._ What’s going on? Talk to me.”

And _fuck._ Zuko _should have_ expected that, but he catches him off guard. Before the end of the war, as they were preparing to face his father and his sister and the rest of the Fire Nation, it wasn’t uncommon for Zuko and Sokka to _talk about things._ Zuko felt safe sharing his worries and fears and anxieties with the other boy because some part of him knew that if it all ended there, if they didn’t come out of it alive, he’d regret not letting _some of it_ out. And in return, Sokka had confided in him, as well. Sokka told him that he was absolutely _terrified_ to face the Fire Nation, that he didn’t feel ready, that he felt overwhelmed. Yet somehow, they did it.

In the weeks before his coronation, while he and Sokka were both cooped and healing from their own battle wounds, they spent plenty of time together, as well. Although their friends would come visit whenever they could (especially when Katara was healing both of them) they were _all_ busy. The war had just ended, obviously, and there was much to be done, but for a couple of weeks, it was just Zuko and Sokka against the world, and they shared a _lot_ with each other then, too. Sokka had opened up about how terrified he had been in that one moment that he thought it was all over, that he and Toph were going to die, telling Zuko that he hadn't felt the same sense. Meanwhile, Zuko had admitted that he felt it was almost poetic justice to give his life for someone like Katara, who had suffered so much at the hands of the Fire Nation. The crowned prince of that very nation sacrificing himself for her? It only seemed fair. 

Naturally, Sokka had told him he was a self-sacrificing idiot for feeling that way and threatened to kick his ass if he ever caught him saying such terrible things about himself like that again. Zuko felt very proud of himself when he retorted with _“Oh yeah? With your broken foot?”_ before they both burst out laughing and the moment broke.

In some ways, nothing has changed since then. Even after six months apart, even three years after the end of the war, he and Sokka are still very much the same people. Sokka still manages to pull the truth from him. So Zuko isn’t surprised when, after a long moment of silence, he glances at their two guards, then back at Sokka and asks, “Do you want to take a walk with me?”

Sokka doesn’t tease him or accuse him of deflection. Somehow, he just _knows,_ and when Zuko rises and silently offers his hand to him, he takes it. 

It doesn’t take long before the two of them are walking back through the dimly lit palace corridors, their swords strapped to their backs, in the direction of the courtyard and gardens. The two Kyoshi Warriors trail silently behind them, still close enough to protect Zuko, if the need arose, but far enough away to give the boys their privacy. 

Compared to the humid heat of the training arena, the atmosphere outside is cool and refreshing. There’s still a thickness to the air that Zuko has become accustomed to since returning home, but it’s calming. It’s a clear, dark night, just a few days past a new moon, but Zuko doesn’t need much light to navigate the winding paths through the palace gardens. He knows them by heart. 

Eventually, he and Sokka come across a clearing, and wordlessly, Zuko leads them forward until they’re both sitting in the grass in front of a small, tranquil little pond. What little light that the small sliver of moon does provide is reflected in the water, and as Zuko stares into it, he feels a little calmer, a little less on edge. 

Sokka doesn’t push him or force him to talk, but eventually, Zuko breaks the silence between them. 

“I’m okay,” he says at last, and he means it, he truly does. “But I’m also… _not_ okay.”

He’s sure that his words come off as cryptic. Hell, they don’t even really make sense, not even to himself. It’s a non-answer, but he’ll give Sokka credit - he takes it in stride, nodding his head and murmuring, “Alright…”

Zuko sighs, squeezing his eyes shut for a long moment. It has always been hard for him to open up like this. Throughout his life, it has been seen as a sign of weakness. It wasn’t until his uncle coaxed it out of him and Sokka validated his feelings that he realized that he wasn’t weak for feeling scared or sad or worried. It isn’t weak to admit such things, either. 

So with a deep breath, he forces himself to talk about the things that have been troubling him over the past few weeks, months and even years - things that he has kept bottled up for fear of seeming _weak._ He knows that Sokka won’t judge him. 

“This sounds so naive to say, but this job - _being the Fire Lord_ \- is _hard,”_ Zuko admits. He half expects a witty comeback from Sokka, but when he doesn’t get one, he continues. “I mean, I expected it, of course, but I feel like almost nothing has changed over the past three years. The Earth Kingdom still doesn’t trust me. _My own people_ still don’t trust me. The few times I’ve sailed to the South Pole, _sure,_ your people welcome me and accept me, but I can still see the fear in their eyes. Everyone is either terrified that I’m going to turn out like my father, or they wish that I would. People like the New Ozai Society still want me dead, and I can’t say that I blame them.”

It all comes out in a rush. Once Zuko starts talking, he can’t stop. Everything that he has been holding back, even to Suki and Mai and his _friends_ in the Fire Nation, just tumbles out, and all Sokka had to do was ask one simple question. Zuko knows that he should be embarrassed of that, that he should probably dissect that, or it’s going to cause problems in the future, but one thing at a time.

Next to him, Sokka lets out a deep breath. “That’s… _a lot.”_

Zuko can’t help but snort out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, well. _You asked.”_

Sokka chuckles as well, relieving some of the tension between them, but not quite all of it. “Shit, I wasn’t actually expecting you to unload on me like -” he starts, then quickly stops himself, apparently reeling himself in before continuing, more put together and concise, “Thank you. For telling me. This is the first time you’ve really talked about it… isn’t it?”

Zuko lets out a deep sigh. He can feel it in his bones when the breath leaves his lungs. _“Yeah.”_

As he awaits Sokka’s response, he can’t help but think back to a night that he and Suki sat at this very pond, just after she and a handful of Kyoshi Warriors were summoned here by Mai. Deep down, Zuko _knows_ that he has people who care about him, that all he has to do is ask for help, and they’ll be here, but it’s still hard to wrap his mind around, sometimes. 

“People have been hurt by the war,” Sokka says at last, shaking him from his thoughts, “They’re angry and they’re in pain and it’s hard for them to trust that you’re going to do the right thing. It’s going to be that way for a long time.”

Zuko turns to look at Sokka, his eyes wide with surprise. He opens his mouth to tell him that _this isn’t helping, it’s only making me feel worse,_ but before he gets the chance, Sokka is speaking again.

“But you _have_ to know that not everyone sees you as the enemy, _right?”_ he asks, pulling his gaze from the pond in front of them to look at Zuko, _really look at him._ Even in the darkness, Zuko can still see the way that the sliver of moonlight catches in Sokka’s eyes, much like the water in front of them. He _always_ seems to come alive under a clear night like this one, despite the fact that he isn’t a waterbender like his sister. It’s something that Zuko noticed, and began to admire, ages ago, but he’s never told him out loud. How do you begin to tell your platonic best friend that their eyes twinkle in the moonlight, that they look like they were made for the cool tones of stars and ocean and wide open sky?

 _Zuko is getting off track._ He stores those thoughts away to think about later, in the comfort of his own room. 

Sokka takes his silence as his cue to go on and continues speaking. “Take me and Katara, for instance,” he explains. “We _hated you_ when we first met you. You were the embodiment of everything that we were taught and conditioned to fear, and you gave us every reason to do exactly that. You _hunted us._ I mean, _man_ -”

 _“Sokka,”_ Zuko all but bites, his tone clipped and exasperated. The last thing he needs right now is to be reminded of _all_ of his past mistakes, especially towards people he now knows and loves. 

“Hold on, I’m getting somewhere with this!” Sokka insists, a grin pulling at his lips. “What I’m trying to say is, we had every reason in the world to hate you, _but we don’t._ And you wanna know why? It’s because you proved that you were capable of change. You proved that, despite the fact you had made some mistakes in the past, you’re also an awkward idiot who tries his best to be good and doesn’t really know how to make friends or tell jokes or -”

Zuko fixes Sokka with an incredulous look and Sokka lets out a sudden, unexpected laugh, finally breaking the tension between them. It’s infectious, and despite his nerves and anxieties, Zuko can’t help but laugh a little, too. 

After a moment, Sokka eventually continues. “You’ve just gotta give people time,” he insists, “Katara and I are just two people. You’re just _one_ person. Now, you just have to prove to the rest of the world that the Fire Nation is full of a bunch of awkward idiots who don’t know how to make friends or tell jokes. Not so bad, right?”

Zuko shakes his head, but he can’t stop the small smile from creeping onto his face. “I don’t know if that’s supposed to make me feel better or worse.”

“Well, it made you smile, didn’t it?” Sokka retorts.

In response, Zuko shoves at his friend’s shoulder in a way that would be characteristic of _Toph_.

 _“This is how I show affection,”_ she has told them countless times. 

Zuko supposes that the same goes for him. 

The action just earns another laugh from Sokka, who playfully shoves back. “I mean it, though,” he insists, “You’re doing an amazing job, okay?” 

Zuko looks at Sokka, and for the first time, he actually believes it. He’s _right._ They’ve come so far since the first time they met each other under less than perfect circumstances at the South Pole. Sokka and Katara and Aang have every reason _not_ to trust Zuko, yet they do. They _more_ than trust him. They flew halfway across the world to _be here - to protect him._ They care about him, and Zuko _knew this,_ he has known this for quite a while, but sometimes it’s easy to forget. 

But right now, with Sokka looking at him, the moonlight reflecting brightly in his clear blue eyes, Zuko _gets it._ Something _clicks._

“Thank you, Sokka,” he breathes, and as he speaks, something constricts in his chest, something he hasn’t felt in a long time. Hope. Affection. Fondness. He’s sure that later, he’ll over analyze this entire conversation and the way that he commits the sight of the other man to memory, but right now, he just lets himself _be._

And Sokka, tactful and tactile as ever, just throws an easy arm over Zuko’s shoulders, pulling him close in a weird half-hug as they sit together on the grass. “That’s what I’m here for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for lots of emotional heart-to-hearts like this. I just really enjoy writing these two working through their problems together. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


	3. Chapter 3 - Talk Some Sense To Me

_ And I've moved further than I thought I could  
But I missed you more than I thought I would  
And I'll use you as a warning sign  
That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind  
And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  
Right in front of me  
Talk some sense to me _

\- "[I Found](https://open.spotify.com/track/5zT5cMnMKoyruPj13TQXGx?si=myWeISQaTymkyD-HRnmuIA)" - Amber Run

* * *

For the first time in a long time, Zuko doesn’t dream. After his late night sparring session and subsequent heart-to-heart with Sokka, he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow and for once, he wakes up feeling refreshed and relaxed. It’s surprising, to say the least.

Ever since the attempted assassination in his study, Zuko has tossed and turned every night, waking up with dark circles under his eyes and messy hair and feeling more anxious and on edge than he had before he went to bed. Truthfully, he  _ always  _ had a hard time sleeping (childhood trauma and living on a ship and being wanted for treason, constantly looking over your shoulder will do that to you) but it has certainly gotten worse, lately. 

But, for the first time in weeks, maybe even months, Zuko gets a good night’s rest and wakes up feeling… _ better. _

He attributes that to the long sparring session with Sokka - the sparring session that leaves his muscles and joints aching in the morning - but deep down, he knows it’s likely due to their talk. Sure, Suki and Ty Lee and even  _ Mai _ are all willing ears whenever Zuko needs to get something off of his chest, but he can’t open up to them the way he can to Sokka. Sokka, who seems to understand him on a level that nobody else really does. He’s sure there’s something to be said about that, but he decides not to look it in the face. Not right now. Not while he’s actually feeling  _ good.  _

Zuko is sure that he’ll regret it, but that morning, he asks his assistant to reschedule his meetings for the entire day and instead, spends the morning and afternoon with his friends. A mental health day is  _ good, _ right? He’s sure his uncle would be proud of him, and he doesn’t miss the smile on Suki’s face when he joins the gang for breakfast and asks if they’d like to spend the afternoon in the city. 

And it’s a  _ good day.  _

So why does Zuko still have trouble sleeping when it comes to an end?

After a long day in the sun with friends, showing them around the city’s main shopping district and even spending some time at the beach, Zuko expects to be exhausted by the time he retires to bed with a promise to dive into their investigation the following day. He can feel the exhaustion creeping into his bones and his muscles, but by the time he crawls into bed, he feels  _ wired. _

Maybe it’s because he knows that he can’t just pretend that everything is okay just because his friends are here - because he still has a nation to run and people depending on him and people actively trying to kill him. Maybe it’s because he knows that eventually, he’s going to have to address the elephant-mouse in the room and actually admit that he  _ does  _ need help.

Maybe, it’s because he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the way that Sokka’s eyes looked in the moonlight, how his laugh and his smile and his encouraging words made him feel like everything was going to be okay. And  _ yeah, _ he should probably face _ that _ head-on, because surely, it’ll cause some problems. But he doesn’t. So maybe  _ that’s _ why he can’t sleep.

So after tossing and turning for what feels like an eternity, Zuko gets up, gets dressed, and grabs his broadswords from where they sit in their scabbard, leaning against the wall of his bedroom. He didn’t even bother hanging them on his wall after returning to his room the night prior, and he tells himself it was simply because he was exhausted, but truthfully, hanging them back up felt like he was telling himself a lie. Deep down, he  _ knew _ it wasn’t going to be the last time he took them off the wall. They’ve  _ never _ just been for decoration.

Just like the night prior, Zuko quietly walks down the quiet palace corridors, two guards trailing right behind him, to the training gym. And just like the night prior, Zuko finds himself hacking at the practice dummies, attempting to blow off some steam or center himself or wear himself out when he hears the door to the training arena open once more. 

He doesn’t have to turn to know that it’s Sokka.

Much like it did before the end of the war, when they were trying to kill time or distract themselves from the looming battle or just  _ unwind,  _ sparring slowly starts to become a routine between Zuko and Sokka once more. It goes unsaid at first, but after three nights in a row, Zuko comes to expect Sokka’s presence in the arena. The fourth night, he even finds Sokka waiting for  _ him _ outside the large double doors.

Sometimes, they’ll spar until they’re worn out, then quietly retire to their respective rooms, exhausted and ready for bed. Other times, they’ll sit on the floor of the training room while Zuko rants about stubborn nobles and frustratingly old-fashioned diplomats and even his own  _ advisors _ who are still dead set on maintaining the status quo. Those nights, Sokka will nod in agreement and listen and occasionally throw in his own anecdotes about how the Southern Water tribe can be stuck in their old ways as well. 

Other nights, they’ll stroll out into the gardens and sit in the grass next to the pond and talk about whatever comes to mind - whether it’s the latest updates in the gang’s “secret” investigation or Sokka’s stories from back home in the South Pole or whether or not they think Katara will eventually grow out of her hair loopies or what Aang might look like with facial hair. 

And it feels  _ right. _

Zuko would be lying if he said that his sparring sessions and his late night talks with Sokka don’t bring some normalcy into his weird, fucked up life. Having someone like Sokka - a  _ peer, _ another young man his age who actually understands him - around does  _ wonders _ for his mental health. He doesn’t magically  _ feel better _ by any means, but it definitely becomes easier to sleep once they start sparring together once more, and it  _ does _ feel nice to open up a bit, to let someone in without fear of judgment or rejection. 

It goes unspoken, but they don’t mention it to the others. Except, of course, for Suki, who is occasionally posted up outside of Zuko’s door when he makes the trek down to the training room, and who later ends up sitting with the two of them at the pond as they bullshit together. 

But their sparring sessions and heart-to-hearts are sacred to them. At least, they’re sacred to  _ Zuko. _ Over the next few days and weeks, he begins to cherish his time spent with Sokka, whether the tribesman is knocking him on his ass in the training room or coaxing embarrassing childhood stories out of Zuko as they sit side by side in the grass, close but not quite touching. He looks forward to their nights together almost more than he looks forward to firebending with Aang out in the courtyard in his free time, or even catching up with Katara over dinner. Sure, he loves Aang and Katara and sees them as his own family as well, but the bond that he shares with Sokka is…  _ different. _ He doesn’t quite know how to explain it.

He also can’t pinpoint when it shifts - when he begins to see the other man...  _ differently _ . Maybe it was there all along, buried under the surface and waiting to rear its ugly head, or maybe it was a slow burn, something that Zuko didn’t notice until he was engulfed in flames. Either way,  _ eventually, _ something shifts, and although he can’t pinpoint when exactly that happens, he  _ can _ recall when he begins to take notice of it. 

As promised, Zuko lets his friends do some reconnaissance and investigation into the New Ozai Society under the radar. The radical nationalist group is something that Zuko, his guards  _ and _ his friends have been aware of since his first year as Fire Lord, but that doesn’t mean that they still don’t pose a threat, even now. Although none of the would-be assassins that they’ve captured and imprisoned so far are willing to talk, it’s obvious that they’re part of the group. The problem is, their  _ fellow _ Ozai supporters hide in plain sight. They are business owners and noblemen and ex-navy men. They’re the widows of men who died at war and the children of radicalized parents who just don’t know any better. They look no different than the average Fire Nation citizen and therefore, they’re incredibly difficult to find until they’re crashing through the window of Zuko’s study and attempting to slit his throat. 

Aang, Katara and Sokka dive into their investigation just a few days after arriving in the Fire Nation capital, but it becomes clear even to them after just a few weeks that it  _ isn’t _ a cut and dry case. Finding the enemy, this time around, isn’t as easy as identifying a Fire Nation soldier or someone who clearly wants the Avatar dead. Even those who don’t necessarily love or support Zuko as the Fire Lord could be considered an Ozai supporter or would-be terrorist, and they can’t just start rounding up every single person who disagrees with Zuko’s policies. If  _ that _ were the case, they’d have to arrest half of his advisors, as well.

So the investigation becomes difficult, long and drawn-out, just as Zuko knew it would. Days turn into weeks, which quickly turn into a month, and he has to refrain from saying  _ “I told you so” _ to his friends because he  _ knows _ that they just wanted to help and they have good intentions. And to their credit, they’re not giving up.  _ Especially _ not Sokka, who still somehow finds time to spar with Zuko almost every night before bed. 

Nearly a month into their stay in the Fire Nation, Zuko finds himself sitting out in the gardens with Sokka one evening, much like he does  _ most _ evenings, and that’s when Sokka finally asks a question that Zuko has been  _ dreading _ ever since they arrived. He had begun to think that maybe, Suki had mentioned it in her letter, and  _ that’s _ why nobody ever asked, so it comes as a surprise when, during a lull in their conversation, Sokka asks 

_ “How many times?” _

It’s a vague question, especially because Zuko had  _ just _ been telling Sokka about how he would force Azula and her friends to act out his favorite scenes from popular plays in these very gardens when they were just kids. Obviously, he knows that Sokka  _ isn’t _ asking how many times Zuko tried to reenact the final scene of  _ Long Amongst the Dragons _ with Mai, but he still can’t help but croak out, “What?”

Deep down, he  _ knows _ what Sokka is asking, but he wants to hear him say it. He doesn’t want to answer the question if he isn’t sure.

So he waits until Sokka takes a deep breath and asks, “Since you were coronated, how many assassination attempts have there been?”

Zuko holds his breath. He feels ashamed to admit the number out loud to Sokka for many reasons. First off, simply put, it’s  _ embarrassing _ . A man with a bigger ego and less of a conscience might argue that people just want him dead because they feel threatened by him, but Zuko knows that that’s not the case. These people don’t want him dead because they’re scared of him. They might be scared of change, sure, but they want him dead because they think he’s  _ weak. _ Because they still see him as a traitor to the crown. Because his father spent  _ years _ brainwashing these people into thinking that they’re  _ better _ than everyone else, just because of the nation that they were born into. 

He could go on for hours about why they want him dead.

But he also feels embarrassed to admit how many times someone has attempted to kill him, because he knows that Sokka will take offense to  _ every single time _ that Zuko didn’t call him for help. Because he doesn’t want to see the look of pity or worry or fear on Sokka’s face. He doesn’t want to drag him into this with him.

But  _ Sokka asks, _ so he answers. 

(And honestly,  _ that’s _ when it starts to click for him, too. Because  _ shit, _ he didn’t even share these kinds of things with  _ Mai.) _

“Seven,” Zuko chokes out before he can talk himself out of it, “Counting the last one.”

He doesn’t look Sokka in the eyes when he speaks -  _ he can’t _ \- and instead, keeps his own gaze trained on the calm water in front of them. 

_ “Seven?!” _ Sokka exclaims next to him. Zuko flinches at the outburst, and either Sokka notices it, or he has the presence of mind to lower his voice when he continues speaking.  _ “Seven times? _ What the  _ fuck _ Zuko? Why didn’t you write to us sooner?  _ Why didn’t you write at all?” _

Right. Because he  _ didn’t _ write to them.  _ Suki  _ did. 

“I -” Zuko starts, then stops. He doesn’t even know how to begin to explain this to Sokka in a way that he won’t take offense to. In a way that he’ll understand. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

And  _ okay, _ maybe that wasn’t the perfect way to start. 

_ “You didn’t want to -” _ Sokka starts, obviously confused and angry, before he seems to realize himself and  _ restarts _ in a much calmer tone, “Zuko, look at me.”

Zuko  _ really _ doesn’t want to, but he does. He tears his eyes from the pond in front of them and  _ looks _ at Sokka - looks at him properly. To Zuko’s surprise, his friend doesn’t look  _ mad. _ No, he doesn’t look  _ angry _ at his admission. He actually looks… _ heartbroken? _

Something clicks, sliding to place in Zuko’s brain at that realization.

He _ never _ wants to be the reason Sokka looks that way again.

“You are  _ not _ bothering us. You  _ have _ to understand that, okay? We’re your friends. For La’s sake, we’re here because we  _ care _ about you. We would have been here in a heartbeat if you would have just -”

_ “I know,”  _ Zuko cuts him off before he can say anything else because he’s not quite sure if he can take it, “I know you would be. I  _ know _ you’re here because you care. I just - I don’t  _ know _ why I didn’t reach out sooner. Maybe it’s because I felt like if I did, I was just proving them right - that I’m weak.”

“You know, Aang was onto something when he said that asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness,” Sokka argues gently. 

“I know,” Zuko repeats, exasperated. He doesn’t want to argue with Sokka, but he  _ does _ want him to see things from his perspective. It’s not that he didn’t reach out because he didn’t  _ want _ his friends here. It’s much deeper than that. He’s not sure if he’s ready to admit that out loud yet, but he does anyway,  _ for Sokka.  _

And  _ fuck, _ there’s something to be said about that. 

“I think,” Zuko says, trying to form the right words, “I think that it’s because deep down, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, I deserved it. And I’d feel guilty for dragging you guys into this. You’ve already done  _ so much _ for me, when you didn’t have to and -”

_ “Shut up,”  _ Sokka interrupts, his voice suddenly hard, “Just - stop. Shut up. Don’t you  _ dare _ say that.”

Zuko looks at Sokka, wide eyed, mouth parted mid-sentence. He’s never seen Sokka so angry. So hurt.

_ Spirits, _ did he just completely fuck this up?

“Sokka, I -”

_ “No,” _ Sokka bites. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then says, “You can’t talk like that.” When he opens his eyes, Zuko feels small under their gaze. They strip him bare, leaving him vulnerable to Sokka’s caring, emotional words. 

“You can’t  _ think _ like that, okay? I don’t know how many times I have to drill this into your head, but we’re here because we  _ care _ about you, okay?  _ I _ care about you. You don’t...  _ deserve _ that, Zuko.”

Sokka reaches forward, taking Zuko’s hands in his own, then continues before Zuko has a chance to react or interject. “I - I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you and I could have been able to stop it. We’re here to  _ protect _ you, because that’s what friends do, and I’m going to make damn sure that nothing bad happens to you. You understand that?”

Rationally, Zuko  _ knows _ that Sokka’s anger isn’t directed at  _ him,  _ but rather the situation. However, that doesn’t stop him from muttering out, “I’m sorry, I -”

“Don’t apologize,” Sokka says quickly, cutting him off once more. “Just.  _ Don’t. _ It’s not your fault.”

And for a moment, time seems to stop. Zuko doesn’t know how long he has been unknowingly waiting for someone to say  _ those _ words to him. He’s sure that Sokka doesn’t quite know what it means to him - hell,  _ Zuko _ didn’t even know that he needed to hear it - but as soon as those words leave Sokka’s mouth, Zuko is rendered speechless. 

_ It’s not your fault. _

For a moment, Zuko can’t help but wonder how  _ different  _ his life would have been if someone would have told him that at just the young age of nine, eleven or especially thirteen. Granted, he probably wouldn’t have listened - it took him  _ years _ to finally listen to his uncle, after all - but maybe it could have changed things.

Or maybe, things would still be the same. 

Either way, the words leave Sokka’s lips, and for a moment, all Zuko can do is  _ stare _ at him, wordless, wide-eyed and surprised. It’s a freeing feeling, once those words sink in, and it leaves Zuko feeling stripped bare. And, as he sits there in the grass, his hands in Sokka’s, it feels…  _ right. _

After that night, it becomes hard to ignore. Zuko’s  _ feelings towards Sokka  _ become hard to ignore. 

If he really, truly thinks about it, those feelings have always been there, buried beneath the surface for as long as he can remember, but it isn’t until that night that something just  _ clicks. _ It’s an  _ ah-ha _ moment, an epiphany, and suddenly, everything makes sense - the way he trusts Sokka more than anyone else, his comfortability around him, his willingness to share parts of himself with him that he couldn’t even share with Mai. Once he realizes it, he actually feels quite stupid for not noticing it sooner, but in his defense, he never really  _ had _ any healthy relationships to model his own after, growing up. It only makes sense that he’d be too blind to notice something so obvious right in front of him.

_ He has feelings for Sokka. _

It should be a freeing, relieving revelation, and for a moment, it  _ is. _ Everything suddenly makes sense and Zuko feels like an idiot for not understanding it sooner and he doesn’t  _ mind _ the fact that he has feelings for Sokka because he’s a great leader, a fierce friend and a strong warrior, but -

_ Well, _ Sokka obviously doesn’t like men. He has a girlfriend, for Agni’s sake.

And  _ that’s  _ the problem. Well, that, and of course the fact that he’s  _ Zuko’s best friend.  _

_ Zuko has feelings for his best friend.  _

So yeah, it isn’t really a joyous revelation. 

It’s not that Zuko isn’t comfortable in his own skin _ or  _ comfortable with his sexuality. In fact, those are two things that Zuko has rarely struggled with. In the Fire Nation, same-sex relationships were strictly outlawed  _ decades _ ago, but it was one of the first laws that Zuko repealed upon becoming Fire Lord. If three years at sea taught him  _ anything  _ (you know, other than kindness and compassion and forgiveness and patience) it was that the other nations were generally more accepting of  _ people like him. _ People like him, because Zuko knew from a young age that he was attracted to both boys and girls - men and women - but he buried it deep down and kept it hidden from his friends and family. But after three years at sea and travelling the world, Zuko learned that nearly nobody else  _ gave a shit _ about who he wanted to love or kiss or fall into bed with at night - not even his own uncle or his crew. They all had bigger fish to fry. 

So no, it’s not that Zuko isn’t comfortable with his sexuality - that’s a bridge that he crossed ages ago - it’s more so that he doesn’t feel  _ comfortable _ with the fact that he has feelings for his best friend. His  _ straight _ best friend. Who has a girlfriend. Who’s girlfriend is currently in charge of guarding his life. Who’s girlfriend Zuko _ trusts _ with his life and loves like a sister (you know, the good kind, not the kind that tries to shoot you full of lightning).

And  _ yeah. _ It’s complicated, to say the least. 

That first night, when Zuko  _ first _ realizes it, he doesn’t overthink it. It just  _ is, _ and he resolves to deal with it later. But the next morning, as he sits down for breakfast with his friends, he can’t help but notice how  _ perfect _ Suki and Sokka are together. He can’t help but make note of all of the casual little touches between them, the way that Sokka watches her with hearts in his eyes, giving her his full attention when she speaks, or how she smiles fondly when he goes over their plans for the day’s investigation. 

He has feelings for Sokka - there’s no denying that - but Zuko cares about Suki as well, and he would be damned if he came between them or did something to fuck up his relationship with  _ either _ of them. He doesn’t need more enemies right now, so he vows not to act on it, to bury it deep down and try to forget about it. 

But forgetting about it, as it turns out, is a lot easier said than done. 

Sparring with Sokka doesn’t feel the same. Neither does their late night talk that evening after training. If it feels off to Sokka, he doesn’t say anything, but to Zuko, it feels charged, like he’s walking on eggshells, like he’s just one slip-up away from Sokka discovering how he feels.

So, after that night, he decides to distance himself. He doesn’t completely cut Sokka off - after all, they  _ are _ best friends - but he decides that they can’t keep sparring every night. They can’t keep sitting out in the gardens, talking late into the night until they’re both nearly falling asleep on top of each other. Now that he  _ knows _ that he has feelings for Sokka, he can’t in good conscience keep doing that. He needs to be the responsible one. 

So he makes up excuses. He finds reasons why he can’t spar, why they can’t meet up late at night as often. He starts scheduling early morning meetings with the Minister of Education under the guise of reworking the Fire Nation school curriculums (again) and he hopes that Sokka understands. 

And for a while, things seem to go smoothly. Zuko successfully distances himself - not enough to come off as uncaring or cold, but enough to keep himself in check while still remaining friends with Sokka - and it feels like he’s doing the right thing. Sure, he starts to have trouble sleeping again, and sometimes, he can’t help but feel guilty because his  _ stupid crush _ is still affecting their friendship in a small way, but he pushes those feelings and worries down and tells himself that he’s doing what’s best for both of them.

Over the next month, Sokka, Katara and Aang actually start making some headway with their investigation, too. They don’t have any concrete proof just yet - and Zuko tells him that they can’t just arrest people because they support Ozai - but they  _ do _ have a good starting point when it comes to infiltrating and gathering information from the New Ozai Society. So as they work hard to bring some evidence to the table, Zuko starts to bury himself in work once more. As Fire Lord, there’s always  _ something _ to be done, and Zuko starts searching out difficult projects and tasks to distract himself from the problem at hand. 

While Zuko spends his time combing through laws that were enacted when his great-grandfather, his grandfather and his father were all Fire Lord, his friends manage to capture, arrest and interrogate ten more Ozai supporters with concrete proof that they were conspiring to assassinate the Fire Lord. Obviously, this is something that Zuko should be  _ concerned about _ \- and Sokka even stops by his room one evening to make sure he’s okay - but instead, he just buries himself in work. Not only does it help to take his mind off of how  _ Sokka’s arms looked _ the last time they sparred together or how his eyes twinkle in the pale moonlight, but it also helps to distract himself from the fact that there are still plenty of people out there who want him dead. 

During that month, Sokka, Katara and Aang manage to thwart an  _ eighth  _ assassination attempt using the intel gathered from their prisoners before the assailants even make it past the palace walls. The next night, Zuko  _ does _ spar with Sokka, just to get his mind off of things, and he tells himself that it’s fine, that he has his feelings in check. At least, until Sokka opens his mouth. 

“Are you okay?” he asks as Zuko pulls him to his feet in the center of the training arena, a few rounds into their sparring session. It’s too early for some sappy heart-to-heart, and frankly, Zuko was planning on retiring to his room before Sokka tried to have a  _ deep _ conversation with him, so it catches him off guard. 

“What?” Zuko asks, not quite registering what the other man just asked him. 

Sokka doesn’t say anything at first. As he stands, he just watches Zuko for a moment, as if he can read his mind. For a terrifying second, Zuko wonders if he can.

But then, after a long beat of silence, Sokka elaborates. “It’s just - I know we haven’t been sparring as much lately, and I’ve been busy, but  _ man, _ you’ve been  _ buried _ under work these past few weeks. And with everything that happened last night - I just wanted to check in. Make sure you’re alright.”

As a younger man with a shorter fuse, Zuko might have exploded at Sokka, told him not to worry and insisted that he was fine. He still  _ does _ insist that he’s fine, but he doesn’t use anger as a deflection or a crutch anymore. 

“I’m fine,” he says with a shrug, attempting to feign indifference. “Just - you know, the life of a Fire Lord. Lots to do.”

_ Lots to do? _ Zuko groans internally.  _ That’s _ the best that he could come up with?

Thankfully, if Sokka sees through him, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he just laughs. “Yeah, you’re telling me. I don’t know how you do it,” he remarks, scratching at the back of his neck, “You need a vacation.”

“That would be nice,” Zuko comments, offhand, then raises his weapons once more. “Wanna go another round?”

Sokka just grins at him, and with a sigh of relief, Zuko lets himself believe that  _ that’s the end of it. _

Less than a week later, though, Sokka proves him wrong again.

Just a few days after their last sparring session - after Zuko had insisted to Sokka that he was  _ fine _ \- Zuko finds himself sitting up in bed late one night, reading and re-reading the proposal that he had written for the Minister of Education earlier that afternoon. Although he had started meeting with the Minister in an attempt to distract himself from his feelings towards Sokka _ and _ to provide a good excuse as to why they could no longer spar regularly, he actually ended up finding a few glaring issues in the latest curriculum that needed some work. Since his coronation, Zuko has been diligently working to make sure that the Fire Nation’s past mistakes don’t get swept under the rug (his uncle always said that if they didn’t learn from their past they were doomed to repeat it) so he’s glad to find something to do to keep his mind off of things. 

That doesn’t last long, though, because only about twenty minutes after he settles down in bed, head propped up on his pillows as he reads through the proposal, there’s a knock on his door. Zuko waits for a beat before sighing and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. He pulls his robe closed, tying the sash around his waist and takes his time padding across the room to answer the door.

Considering the fact that he has two guards posted outside his door and he hasn’t heard any commotion, he feels safe enough opening the door himself. It’s either one of the palace’s maids, a guard or possibly, one of his friends. 

Still, he’s surprised when he swings his door open to find Sokka standing on the other side, a small smile spread across his face. 

“Hey,” Sokka says in greeting before Zuko can formulate any words. He glances over Zuko’s shoulder into his room, then back at his face before asking, “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“I - no,” Zuko answers. For a split second, he considers telling Sokka that  _ yes, _ he  _ is _ interrupting something, but he doesn’t have the heart to lie. So instead, he steps to the side, motioning for Sokka to come in and says, “I was just finishing some work for the Minister of Education. Come in.”

Sokka huffs out a laugh. “You know, you don’t  _ have _ to work at all waking hours of the day,” he teases as he steps into the room. 

Zuko closes the door behind them, watching for a moment as Sokka takes in the interior of his bedroom. It’s far from the first time Sokka has been inside, but he still looks around in awe like the first time he stepped foot inside and said,  _ “Spirits, _ your room is bigger than the entire  _ igloo _ I grew up in.” The comment made Zuko feel guilty back then, but Sokka had insisted that he didn’t mean it that way. 

Now, Zuko watches Sokka for entirely different reasons. He takes in the way that the young man carries himself. Three years since they first became friends, Sokka moves with so much more confidence than when he was just sixteen. Even now, as he walks deeper into Zuko’s room, fingers dancing against the dark wood of his wardrobe, he seems so much more grown up. 

Zuko clears his throat, shaking those thoughts from his head. The sound earns Sokka’s attention, and he turns to glance at Zuko.

“What can I do for you, Sokka?” Zuko asks, careful to keep his tone light. He’s aware that sometimes, he can come off as standoffish and intimidating, and while he appreciates his privacy, he also doesn’t necessarily want to scare Sokka off. 

_ “Right,” _ Sokka says, as if just remembering why he’s in Zuko’s bedroom at such a late hour. “I  _ was _ going to talk to you if we sparred tonight, but you didn’t show, so I figured I’d come find you.”

A pang of guilt hits Zuko in the chest. Does Sokka do this every night when he doesn’t show up to the training arena? Does he wait to see if he’ll make it? Does he train by himself if Zuko doesn’t?

Zuko wants to ask these questions, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Instead, he asks, “What did you want to talk about?”

Sokka nods, mostly to himself. “So, I was thinking about what you said, last week, about how we can’t just have someone arrested for supporting your father…”

_ Ah. So he’s here for business. _

Zuko tries to ignore the disappointment that creeps into his bones and curses himself for getting his hopes up. Of course Sokka wants to talk about  _ what he came to the Fire Nation for. _

“Okay…” Zuko says after a moment of silence, prompting Sokka to continue. 

“Well, what if we set a trap?”

Zuko raises an eyebrow. “A trap,” he echoes.

“Yeah, a trap,” Sokka repeats. He wrings his hands together. “So.  _ Here’s the thing. _ You’re going to get sick tomorrow. Like, sick enough to have to cancel all of your meetings for the next few days while you’re bedridden.”

“Sokka, I feel fine…” Zuko says, not quite understanding what the other man is getting at. First, he mentions setting a trap, now he’s bringing up Zuko’s health. How are the two supposed to tie together?

Sokka sighs in response, but he doesn’t look upset. A small smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head back and forth. “No - _ that’s the trap,” _ he explains, “We have reason to believe that someone within the palace is leaking information to the Ozai supporters. If we  _ ‘accidentally’ _ let it slip that you’re sick and bedridden with  _ the pentapox _ , they’ll find out, and you’ll seem like an easy target. They'll take the bait, only you  _ won’t _ be bedridden. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“It’s a diversion,” Zuko infers, finally understanding. 

_ “Exactly!” _ Sokka exclaims, clearly excited about the plan -  _ his _ plan, Zuko assumes. “Instead of you, they’ll break into your room and find Aang, Katara, Suki and her best warriors waiting for them. They’ll fall right into our trap, we’ll capture more of them  _ and _ we’ll probably figure out who has been feeding them information. It’s foolproof.”

It actually  _ is _ a really good plan. Zuko is impressed, but he shouldn’t be, considering the fact that Sokka is the mastermind behind it. There aren’t any holes in the plan, except -

“If I’m  _ not _ going to be sick in bed, then where  _ am _ I going to be?” Zuko asks, “If they find out that I’m elsewhere, they’ll see right through the trap and just focus their attack elsewhere.”

“Ah! I’ve already thought of that!” Sokka retorts, a grin spreading across his face.  _ “We _ , my dear Fire Lord, are going on vacation.”

Zuko stares back at Sokka with wide eyes, an amused smile creeping onto his face. “Vacation,” he deadpans. 

_ “Yes, vacation,” _ Sokka retorts, “The idea came to me the other night while we were sparring, when I mentioned that you needed one. It just took some time to sort out the logistics.”

Honestly, the idea of a vacation is tempting, but -

“I can’t just drop everything, Sokka,” he insists, “And when are we supposed to leave?”

“Well, preferably within the next hour,” Sokka answers. When Zuko opens his mouth to argue, he holds up a finger, continuing, “Suki will make sure your appointments and meetings are rescheduled. Aang is going to fly us to Ember Island tonight, and we’ll stay there for a few days, until the plan is successful.” 

“Ember Island?” Zuko repeats, his eyes going wide again, which earns a laugh from Sokka. 

_ “Yes, _ Ember Island.  _ Spirits, _ is there an echo in here?” he grins, then adds, “Come on, start packing, we’re on a tight schedule.” At that, Sokka’s shoving Zuko gently in the direction of his wardrobe. 

And Zuko… well, he doesn’t argue. Not only does Sokka have a sound plan, but the idea of getting away for just a few days, of spending some time on the beach with no responsibilities sounds  _ good. _ Sokka tagging along just sweetens the pot. 

He’s sure that he should argue, that he should insist that Sokka doesn't have to come, but he doesn’t. For a split second, as he stares at Sokka’s bright blue eyes and grinning face, he wants nothing more than to run away for a few days and spend some time with him. Sure, it’s selfish. And he’s  _ positive  _ that it’ll end up getting him into some trouble, but…

_ Fuck it.  _

“Fine, fine,” Zuko mutters, turning to walk towards his wardrobe as Sokka shoves him gently again, “I’m in. But only because I’m afraid of what you’ll do if I don’t go along with  _ your _ plan.”

In response, Sokka just pumps his fist in the air and shouts,  _ “Bro’s trip!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More Sokka/Zuko heart to hearts! Bro's trip next chapter! What could go wrong??
> 
> Thanks again for reading! Feel free to come yell at me about ATLA/LOK/Zukka or literally anything on [Tumblr](https://thefangirlingdead.tumblr.com).


	4. Chapter 4 - All of This Hurt That You've Been Harboring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sokka and Zuko go on a much needed “bro’s trip,” meet a very unique Fire Nation citizen, spar on the beach and have another much needed heart to heart session. 
> 
> Strap in, folks. It's a long one, but one of my favorite chapters to write. Enjoy!

_Won't you tap my shoulder, hold my hand_   
_Nights with nothing but dark in there_   
_You can be my armor then_   
_Island smiles and cardigans_   
_The nights that we've been drinking in_   
_We're here to help you kill all of this hurt that you've been harboring_

\- "[An Evening I Will Not Forget](https://open.spotify.com/track/7AYW91ev3Iu3cEuWNsObea?si=Ruc4OjsRQ9GkuPUUlSz9Pw)" - Dermot Kennedy

* * *

As it turns out, Zuko is the last to find out about his and Sokka’s impromptu _bro’s trip,_ as the other man had called it. By the time Sokka is sneaking him out of his chambers, both of them dressed inconspicuously in dark, understated clothes so as not to draw any attention to themselves, Aang is already waiting about a mile away from the palace with Appa to take them away to Ember Island. Apparently, Sokka had _assumed_ that Zuko would just go along with his plan. 

Zuko tries not to feel embarrassed about the fact that Sokka was right. He also tries to tell himself that he didn’t just say yes because it was _Sokka_ \- no, he agreed to go along with it because it was a _good_ plan. Because it would help their investigation. Because he _does_ need a vacation. 

It’s a clear, mild night, and the trip to Ember Island upon Appa’s back doesn’t take long at all. They land on the beach, just outside of the royal vacation home that Zuko used to visit when he was just a kid, and after they unload their belongings, Aang is leaping back onto Appa in a graceful gust of wind. “I’ll be back to pick you guys up as soon as the coast is clear!” he calls cheerily, despite the late hour and the fact that he’s leaving two of his closest friends on a remote island while he spearheads a mission to take down a group of would-be assassins. You know, _typical Avatar stuff._ “Don’t have too much fun without me!”

And then, just like that, Aang is gone, and they’re alone. For a moment, it’s quiet between the two of them as they stand on the beach, watching until they can’t make out the shape of Appa in the darkness anymore. For a moment, the only sound between the two of them is the gentle lapping of the water up on the shore and bugs chirping off in the distance. It’s peaceful. Quiet. Serene. Even if visiting his family’s old vacation home may bring up some less than pleasant memories, Zuko actually feels a little _relieved_ to be standing here on the empty beach next to Sokka, looking up at the dark night sky. 

“Well, we should probably get going,” Sokka is the one to finally break the silence, hoisting his own bag up from where it sits in the sand and shooting a smile over at Zuko’s direction in the dim moonlight. “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow!”

Zuko considers teasing Sokka about the fact that he likely already has an entire schedule mapped out, that this is something that he probably spent hours planning, but he holds his tongue. The teasing can wait for the morning. He doesn’t want to break the peaceful calm of this quite yet. 

(He also decides against _speaking_ because he’s momentarily distracted by the way that Sokka looks under the moonlight. He always seems to glow under it, the pale light doing something magical to his skin, and Zuko keeps his mouth shut, afraid that if he speaks, it won’t be to tease Sokka about his schedule, but rather comment on his looks, and _spirits,_ wouldn’t that be a terrible, awkward start to their vacation?)

So instead, Zuko quietly leads the way up to the vacation home. Once they’re inside, he conjures a small flame in his hand to lead them through the house, showing Sokka to a suitable room before bidding him goodnight and retiring to his own bedroom - the master suite. It doesn’t feel right sleeping in the same bed that his father once slept in during family vacations all of those years ago, but it beats sleeping in his smaller, childhood bed, so he takes it.

It comes as no surprise that he tosses and turns all night before finally falling into a restless, dreamless sleep.

* * *

When Zuko wakes in the morning, it’s to the sound of birds chirping outside the bedroom window and waves washing ashore in the distance. At the angle that the sunlight shines in through the sheer curtains, he assumes that it can’t be too far past sunrise, and if he had to guess, he got at least four or five hours of sleep. (Which, to be honest, is better than many sleepless nights he has spent in the palace.)

Instead of rising or getting ready for the day right away, for a few minutes, Zuko allows himself to just _be._ He remembers what Sokka had said to him last night (and a few days prior) about needing a vacation, so despite his desire to get up and _be productive,_ he closes his eyes and just breathes, basking in the warm sunlight and trying to focus on his inner fire. If he wanted to meditate properly, he would be outside, sitting facing the sun, but this works, too. It’s relaxing. Calming. It helps to take his mind off of the reason that he’s here and the person that he’s here _with._ Instead, he just thinks of _nothing,_ letting his thoughts and feelings float away, carried out to sea with the push and pull of the tide. 

As he lays in bed, sunlight washing over his face through the window, he lets go of all of his fears and worries, his duties pulling him back to the capital and the threats that still linger back home. He pushes away the thought of Aang, Katara and Suki working diligently to resolve the tensions in his _own_ nation while he relaxes in a sunny vacation home and instead, he just _breathes._ He can’t worry about those things right now. He can’t allow himself to get caught up in it. There’s nothing he can do about it right now, and worrying will only stress him out and make him regret going along with this trip entirely, so he lets those thoughts float out to sea. 

The same goes for his feelings towards Sokka. Zuko isn’t a fool. He knows that if he lets his feelings consume him, if he lets that fire burn too far or too strong, he’ll lose control. It’s one thing to briefly admire the way that Sokka’s tan skin looks in the warm sunlight or the way his blue eyes practically glow under a full moon, but it’s something else entirely to let those thoughts linger. The last thing he needs is to spend this entire trip pining over his best friend. So as he takes another deep breath, he lets go of those thoughts, too. 

By the time Zuko opens his eyes once more, nearly half an hour has passed and he feels more well-rested than he did when he first woke. Zuko swings his legs over the side of his bed and stretches as he stands, then crosses the room to pull on a fresh change of clothes.

As he had quickly packed the night prior, Sokka recommended bringing some of the more simple, understated pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, which included some of the faded old outfits from his time at sea that still fit him, some muted robes from the Earth Kingdom that would easily go overlooked in a crowd and a couple of black pisces _just in case_ he really needed to slip into the shadows undetected. Zuko opted to keep his hairpiece back at the palace - no use in bringing it if they were trying to blend in - and as he pulls on a dark burgundy tunic and some dark brown pants, he also ties his hair up in a tight bun, pulling the stray hairs away from his face. 

With a deep breath, he opens his bedroom door and walks quietly down the stairs toward the kitchen and communal living area. As Zuko makes his way through the dimly lit hallway, the admiring the way that the soft morning light casts long shadows on the hardwood floors, he can’t help but think back to a simpler time, when he was just a kid running through these hallways, playing games with Azula while breakfast cooked in the kitchen. If he closes his eyes, he can still hear the way that their laughs would echo off the walls, their bare feet thumping loudly down the wood floors. He doesn’t have many pleasant memories from his childhood, but the few that he _does_ have mostly take place here, in this house. He wonders if that’s because his father was rarely present, then. Probably. 

Shaking _that_ thought from his head, Zuko continues down the hallway until past memories merge with the present and suddenly, he’s standing in the entryway to the kitchen, listening to the sizzle of _something_ cooking on the stove and taking in the sight of Sokka bathed in morning light. 

And suddenly, all of that meditation, pushing those thoughts and feelings away, goes right out the window.

The large windows on the eastern wall of the house provide plenty of natural lighting (it was constructed that way on purpose, as are many homes within the Fire Nation) which means that when Zuko steps foot into the kitchen, the entire room is illuminated in warm, bright light. And even with his back to him, Sokka practically glows in the sunlight. His dark skin is complimented perfectly by the Fire Nation getup that he’s currently wearing - a simple burgundy tunic with bronze embroidery and ash-colored pants that cut off just below the knees. It’s an understated outfit, but a sharp contrast to the Water Tribe blues that Sokka had been wearing the day prior, and for a moment, Zuko’s brain short-circuits upon seeing him dressed in his nation’s colors. 

Ever since the end of the war, Sokka has proudly worn the colors of his tribe no matter where he goes, both out of respect to his own culture and, as he has told Zuko before, a way to prove to the rest of the world that they’re united, now. He has said on more than one occasion that he has never felt closer with his own culture and his people than he has while wearing the Southern Water Tribe blues across the far-reaches of the world. Zuko almost offered him the position of ambassador upon hearing those words, because he wouldn’t rather have anyone else representing the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, but he held his tongue, because the rest of the world needs Sokka, too. It would simply be selfish to keep him all to himself. 

So sure, he loves to see Sokka proudly displaying his Water Tribe blues, but _man,_ seeing him in deep red tones, his trademark wolf tail even tied up in a tight top knot, _does something_ to Zuko.

And _shit,_ he thinks as he stands wordlessly in the doorway, _he has felt this way for a while, hasn’t he?_

Zuko doesn’t have much time to process that thought, because it’s at that exact moment that Sokka seems to sense his presence in the doorway and turns, flashing him a warm, bright smile. “Good morning sleepyhead!” he calls before turning back to the meal that he appears to be cooking on the stove, “It’s about time you got up.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow, taking a few steps further into the kitchen. Once he does, the smell of cooking meat and eggs and a few scents that he _doesn’t_ quite recognize flood his senses. “How long have you been up?” he questions, fixing Sokka’s back with a quizzical look, “And where did you get all of this food?”

Sokka hums, but doesn’t turn to face him. “Just a little bit before sunrise,” he answers, “Couldn’t sleep, so I took a walk down to the market and decided to grab something for breakfast. Smells good, huh?”

At _that,_ Sokka does turn to glance in Zuko’s direction, his smile matching the chipper tone to his voice. For a moment, Zuko catches himself staring, committing the sight of Sokka, dressed down in casual Fire Nation attire, standing in front of a stove, cooking them breakfast, to memory. He never thought he’d wake up to _this._

He shakes himself out of it quickly though, clearing his throat and muttering, “Yeah. Anything I can help with?”

“Nope!” Sokka retorts, then pauses thoughtfully. “Well, actually... If you could find some plates, that would be awesome. You have no idea how hard it is to _find things_ in this place.”

Zuko snorts out a laugh, but quickly crosses the kitchen to open a cabinet, pulling out two ceramic plates. They’re both covered in dust from years of disuse (despite the fact that Zuko pays someone to regularly maintain the house) and he quickly wipes them off with the bottom of his shirt. 

“Thanks,” Sokka offers with another warm smile once Zuko hands the plates over, then quickly shoos him away while he serves their meals. 

By the time Zuko takes a seat, he’s looking down at a plate full of hearty, savory breakfast food - what appears to be some sort of sausage, eggs and some exotic vegetables that he doesn’t quite recognize. Sokka seems to notice him staring down at the plate and points at the greens with a fork. 

“From the Earth Kingdom. I was surprised to find them in the market and _had_ to pick them up,” he says around a mouthful of food, “We had a breakfast like this when we were staying in Ba Sing Se and I’ve been craving it ever since. I didn’t really know how to cook it, though, so hopefully it tastes alright -”

“If it tastes anything like it smells, I’m sure it’ll be great,” Zuko insists, offering Sokka a soft smile and he tries to ignore the way that he practically _glows_ under the praise. 

And as it turns out, the meal tastes _delicious._ Zuko isn’t surprised, though. During their time on the road together, he ate more than a few of Sokka’s hastily put-together meals, and even those weren’t half bad. When he complimented him on his cooking once, Sokka had grinned and thanked him, attributing his cooking skills to the fact that he did the majority of the cooking at home after his father left. His words had immediately made Zuko feel awkward and guilty - _of course_ Sokka knew how to cook, he was forced to become the man of the household at such a young age - but Sokka had just shrugged his moping off, mentioning something about how the young men in his tribe _all_ learned how to hunt and fish and cook at a young age, that it wasn’t anything to feel bad about.

Sokka’s upbringing has always seemed like such a stark contrast to Zuko’s. Zuko, who always had someone to cook for him, even when he was banished at sea. Zuko, who never had to hunt or fish or scrounge for food once in his life and would be completely useless in a kitchen. It’s mind blowing that the two of them, so different in many ways, manage to get along the way that they do now. 

As Zuko sits at the table with Sokka, enjoying a delicious breakfast, he reminds himself that they’re friends not because of their upbringing or their social status, but their shared experiences, unshakable trust and common interests. You know, and shared trauma, and all of that other dark shit that Zuko is trying _really hard_ not to dwell on right now. 

“So,” Zuko says, about halfway through their meal, breaking the silence between them, “What’s on the agenda for today?”

Sokka glances up at him from across the table as he shoves a fork full of meat and vegetables into his mouth. _“Aht akes you ink I have an agenda?”_ Sokka asks around a mouthful of food, earning a snort from Zuko, who, over the years, has grown accustomed to attempting to have conversations with the other man over meals.

Zuko easily deciphers his words. _What makes you think I have an agenda?_

And in return, he just fixes Sokka with a knowing gaze. “Because I know you,” he deadpans. 

That earns a wild, shit-eating grin from Sokka, who thankfully, decides to fully chew and swallow his food before speaking again. “Okay, you caught me,” he admits. Pushing his plate to the side, Sokka reaches down into his pants pocket and pulls out a folded sheet of parchment before smoothing it over the tabletop. 

Zuko doesn’t know whether he should groan or burst out laughing. 

In the end, Sokka’s _agenda_ is less of a schedule and more of a list of things that they can do while on Ember Island. As it turns out, Sokka has been looking into events on the island for a few weeks, actually, and has assembled a rather large list of activities that they can do and functions that they can attend to keep them busy. The first on the list is a volleyball tournament on the beach which Zuko _quickly_ shoots down because the _last_ thing he needs is to be recognized. The less human contact, the better. 

“There’s some sort of summer festival happening tomorrow,” Sokka says excitedly, quickly getting over his disappointment over Zuko’s decline to enter the volleyball tournament. “I actually heard some people talking about it at the market earlier. Apparently there’s some sort of art showcase and live music in town tonight. Maybe we could do that?”

Zuko hums, considering the thought of navigating a crowd without being recognized, and Sokka seems to pick up on it immediately. “Here’s the thing,” he starts in a convincing, confident tone, “I know you have a pretty distinct… _look,_ but the second you put your hair up, _trust me,_ you look completely different. Couple that with these toned-down clothes and _no crown,_ and people won’t even look twice at you.”

“But what about -”

“Zuko, _Zuko,”_ Sokka insists, a smile spreading across his face, “I spent nearly a year on the road with the _Avatar,_ and a lot of that was in Fire Nation territory. I think I know a thing or two about blending in. _The kid had an arrow tattooed on his head_ and we still didn’t get caught… Much.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow, not quite buying it. “I still found you,” he points out.

“Well… you’re _different,”_ he insists with a laugh, shaking his head. “Just… trust me, man. Okay?”

So, against his better judgement, Zuko _does._

And for the most part, it works out. Shortly after breakfast, they set out on foot for town, and by the time they arrive, the main square is positively _alive_ with street vendors, artists, craftsmen, food stalls and of course, a steady flow of foot traffic. Zuko can barely see the other end of the square through the dense crowd, and suddenly, he understands exactly what Sokka meant when he mentioned _hiding in plain sight_ as they had departed. As Sokka takes his arm, weaving throughout the outskirts of the crowd, Zuko ducks his head on instinct, trying not to make eye contact with any passers by, but he quickly realizes that nobody is _looking at him,_ either. Most patrons are too busy either trying to get through the crowd themselves, or are distracted, ogling the beautiful art displayed throughout the various stalls or contemplating what to eat. 

For a moment, Zuko is transported back in time, nearly four years in the past, before shit really hit the fan and he could wander seaside markets with his uncle, undetected and unnoticed. Back then, it made Zuko angry that nobody seemed to recognize nor care that the crowned prince of the Fire Nation and one of the nation’s most famed and feared generals were gracing their tiny, insignificant market with their presence, but a lot has changed since then. It has been years since Zuko has been able to go out in his own city like a normal citizen without someone immediately recognizing or bombarding him. The first time he tried it, with two guards following at a safe distance, it had only taken minutes before a shopkeeper had recognized him and insisted that he take whatever he wanted for free, that, _“It would be an honor if the Fire Lord wore any of my garments, please, take your pick.”_

Zuko never thought that he’d long for a time when nobody noticed him, when nobody cared if he set foot inside their shop or stopped to gaze upon their artwork, but as he weaves throughout the crowd with Sokka, the warriors hand at his elbow, it’s actually a rather freeing feeling. For once, he can have a _normal_ afternoon with a friend. No _Fire Lord_ duties. No responsibilities. No being recognized or feeling worried that someone might be hunting him down - just a normal afternoon out with Sokka, _enjoying himself._

“Anything catch your eye?” Sokka turns to ask, once they’re stopped in the middle of a busy crowd, surrounded by booths and food carts as well as stunning artwork and craftsmanship. 

Zuko glances at Sokka to tell him that he doesn’t even know where to start, that this is all _so much_ and not what he expected at all, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, the words die in his throat. Sokka is grinning at him, his eyes twinkling in the bright sunlight, and for the second time that day, Zuko is taken aback by the way that he looks. Sokka blends right in with the crowd in his Fire Nation getup, but he’s the only person that Zuko sees. His bright blue eyes _should_ be a dead giveaway that he isn’t from around here, but nobody seems to spare him a second glance. Nobody, except of course, Zuko. 

Zuko, who is blatantly _staring_ at Sokka as they stand together in the busy crowd, and _oh yeah, Sokka had asked him a question, hadn’t he?_

Zuko shakes himself out of it, turning his attention to a stall situated just over Sokka’s shoulder and gestures towards it, managing to mutter out, “That looks interesting.”

To be honest, he doesn’t even know what it is that he’s pointing at until Sokka turns to look, and _thank Agni,_ it appears to be a booth filled with decorative armor, regal clothing and stunningly forged weaponry. It’s all for show, of course - none of the beautifully hand-carved bone blades nor the vibrant clothing or over the top armor would _actually_ serve a purpose in battle, but it seems to catch Sokka’s attention, as he audibly gasps upon laying eyes on it, dragging Zuko forward. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this…” Sokka remarks as they step into the stall, eyes raking over the trinkets and small daggers hanging from the ceiling (and _spirits,_ that can’t be safe) as well as the intricate clothing, armor and various weapons adorning the walls. 

“It’s all for decoration,” Zuko explains as he follows closely behind, scrutinizing the craftsmanship. Some of them even remind him of the decorative blades that hang on the walls of the palace - absolutely beautiful, but serving no other purpose than for just looks. “None of these would actually be suited for a fight.”

 _“Who cares!”_ Sokka exclaims, reaching out to touch a hand-carved bone dagger, “Look at this - it’s gorgeous.” There’s an inscription carved into the side of it, but Zuko can’t quite make it out from behind Sokka. The blade itself really _is_ beautiful - at about five inches long, it is elegant and just slightly curved, smooth except for the inch just above the hilt, where it has been carved into a jagged pattern. The handle has been wrapped in red, dyed leather and is adorned with two braided pieces that hang off of it, woven with stunning red and gold beads. Sokka runs his finger along the edge of it, only pulling his hand away when a voice interrupts them. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A warm, high voice shakes Zuko _and_ Sokka out of their reverie, and both boys turn to face the source of it. She’s a tall, thin young woman, maybe only five or ten years their senior, with long, dark hair pulled into an intricate braid that falls over her left shoulder. She smiles gently at them, her gaze lingering on Zuko for just long enough to make him shift under the weight of it before she turns her attention to Sokka. “Despite what your companion might think, whale bone is perfectly suited for battle, even if the blade itself might appear _decorative.”_

Zuko opens his mouth to defend himself against the woman’s pointed words, but before he gets the chance, Sokka speaks up. 

“This is made out of whale bone?!” he exclaims with excitement, “No wonder I felt drawn to it! My tribe uses whale bone to make spears and knives - even my boomerang is carved out of it! I’ve never seen a dagger quite like this, though.”

 _“Ah,_ you must be from the Southern Water Tribe,” she responds, seemingly unaffected by the fact that a Water Tribe warrior is standing inside of her stall so deep in Fire Nation territory. Obviously, much has changed over the past three years, but it still makes Zuko nervous when others discover Sokka’s nationality when he’s so far from home, especially now, when Zuko can’t protect or defend him with his status as the Fire Lord. 

“I am!” Sokka replies easily, seemingly unworried about the woman’s assumption, “How did you -”

“My father was an admiral for the Royal Navy,” she explains, a frown falling upon her face. “I’m not necessarily _proud_ of that part of my heritage, but he _did_ bring back many trinkets from his travels over the years. My favorites were some of the weapons used by the warriors of the Southern Water Tribe. I always admired the way that they were crafted with such care and attention to detail. When I found my passion -” she gestures around them, “I couldn’t help but feel inspired by their work.”

It’s only then that Zuko notices that Sokka’s smile has faded. He doesn’t look angry or hurt, but he _knows_ what the other man is thinking. Her father brought those _trinkets,_ as she called them, back from _war._ The weapons that she grew up _admiring_ were likely taken as a souvenir from the dead bodies of Sokka’s people. 

Zuko tenses, preparing for a fight, but before he has a chance to, the woman seems to realize her misstep. 

“Please, forgive me,” she says, her voice suddenly taking on a sullen, somber quality as she takes a step back. “I can imagine what you’re thinking, but my father - he is no longer part of my life. I never wanted to be associated with someone who could so carelessly harm others, just because they weren’t born into the same nation as us. When I was old enough, I left home, and left that part of me behind… I only hoped to honor the people of the Southern Water Tribe by incorporating their traditions and their craftsmanship into my work. I apologize if I offended you in any way.” 

Sokka opens, then closes his mouth, apparently trying to find the right words to say before he settles on, “It’s okay - I understand. I’m here with a firebender, after all.” He nudges playfully at Zuko, who goes stiff under the sudden attention. 

The woman’s eyes fall onto him again, and a small smile crosses her face as she replies, knowingly, _“Yes..._ That you are.”

Sokka, either unaware or uncaring of the way that the woman is currently looking at Zuko _like she knows who he is_ , just sticks out his hand, a smile falling onto his face once more. “I’m Sokka,” he says formally, “Of the Southern Water Tribe. And this is my companion, Lee.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sokka - _Lee_ \- my name is Sira,” she says with a warm smile, taking Sokka’s hand in a traditional Water Tribe greeting, then offering hers to Zuko. Swallowing, Zuko takes it, and if she _does_ know who he is, she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she just turns back to Sokka, a renewed look of joy on her face. “If you like, I can show you more of my collection, Sokka. I think you might enjoy it.”

“I’d love that!” Sokka exclaims, and as Sira guides them throughout her stall, he drags Zuko along for the ride. 

Despite his initial reservations, Zuko actually _doesn’t mind_ the creative artisan. She seems genuine enough, and if Sokka enjoys her works, then he doesn’t mind spending some time admiring them along with him. As she shows them a few more daggers and spears, modeled after the weaponry of the Southern Water Tribe, Sira explains that, after leaving home, she actually sailed to the South Pole to learn more about the culture that had inspired her so much. Although it clearly wasn’t _Sokka’s_ hometown that she stumbled across, she _did_ come in contact with another small tribe, likely nearby, and after slowly gaining their trust, she even lived with them for a few years. As a result, her work is a stunning blend of both Water Tribe and Fire Nation craftsmanship, and as they weave throughout the booth, Zuko notices a subtle blend of blue throughout the reds, blacks and golds. 

It isn’t until Sokka is busy thumbing through some paintings that are laid out on a workbench that Zuko eventually wanders away from him, back to the hand-carved whale bone knives, daggers and spears. As he gazes upon them for the second time, Zuko feels a renewed sense of respect. Much like him, this woman - Sira - found her own path, her own calling and her own destiny apart from her bloodline, and her work is a direct reflection of that. As he admires the blades, his eyes come to rest on the first one that Sokka had pointed out, and now, he can read the inscription carved into the side. 

_“Never hide, always grow.”_

It’s a simple carving and almost reads like poetry, and Zuko can’t help the way he reaches out, his fingers trailing along the carved notches in the bone. 

“I never took the Fire Lord for a man who would appreciate the handiwork of waterbenders,” Sira’s voice shakes him out of his reverie once more, and Zuko freezes at her words. 

When he turns to look at her, she just fixes him with a knowing smile. He can tell that it’s non threatening - in fact, it reminds him a bit of Katara’s knowing glances - but he still tenses at the fact that _she knows who he is._

Still, he doesn’t let his worry show. “Some of my best friends are from the Southern Water Tribe,” he replies simply, defensively.

“I see that,” Sira remarks, glancing quickly over her shoulder to where Sokka stands with his back to them, admiring her artwork, unaware of the exchange happening between them. Then, in a surprising act, Sira offers a small bow, just barely bending at the hips, and says in a quiet tone, “Please believe me when I say that it is comforting to know that Fire Lord Zuko has not followed in the footsteps of his forefathers.”

The meaning behind Sira’s words is not lost on Zuko. He knows that if she ran away to the South Pole, chances are, she did not return to the Fire Nation until very recently. She would have been considered a traitor. An enemy. A disgrace.

Just like him. 

“I do not intend on it,” Zuko replies, offering Sira a small bow in response. “Likewise, it is an honor to meet someone as well-traveled and knowledgeable as yourself.” He glances in Sokka’s direction then, and before the other man can get bored of the paintings and other pieces of artwork, he quickly adds, “It would also be an honor to house some of your craftsmanship in the royal palace.”

“Please,” Sira says, extending her arms, “Take your pick.”

Zuko doesn’t have to think twice before plucking the whale bone dagger off of the wall. It _isn’t_ a decorative piece for the palace, not really, and Sira seems to understand that as she watches him grab it, so he also reaches blindly for another piece to cover for himself. The other knife is a little less intricate, but still stunning - a thicker blade, deadly straight and sharp all the way to the hilt, which is wrapped in alternating black and indigo-dyed leather. 

“I’ll take these two,” he says quickly, passing a substantial amount of gold pieces her way. 

Sira’s eyes go wide at the gesture and she raises her hands, taking a step back. “My lord, I couldn’t possibly -”

“Thank you,” Zuko interrupts, taking one of her hands and placing the purse in it, “For your hospitality, and your discretion.”

And then, just as Zuko hastily shoves the two blades deep into the confines of the satchel slung over his shoulder, Sokka finally turns, oblivious to the transaction that just occurred behind him.

“Sira, your work is absolutely _stunning,”_ he comments, a warm smile spreading across his face, “I’d love to purchase something, but I’m afraid there’s no way that I have enough -”

“Don’t worry about it,” she cuts him off with a smile of her own, “Any member of the Southern Water Tribe is a friend of mine. I’d be happy if you chose a piece of mine, to take along with you on your travels.”

Sokka’s eyes go wide at her words. “Are you - you’re not _serious_ , are you? I couldn’t - I mean -”

“Please,” she motions around her stall, just as he had done for Zuko not minutes earlier, “It would be an honor.” 

And for a moment, Zuko’s heart _stops._ He fears that Sokka will go straight for the whale bone dagger that _he_ just purchased himself, but instead, as Sokka’s face lights up with an idea, he crosses the stall in the opposite direction, heading straight for the handcrafted jewelry. Zuko doesn’t quite see the piece that Sokka picks out, but he _does_ watch as Sokka unceremoniously shoves a small trinket into his own pocket. “My sister will love it,” he explains, then crosses the room to wrap Sira in an unexpected hug. “Thank you, Sira.”

“My pleasure, Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe,” she responds, then turns to Zuko and offers him a knowing smile, “Lee. Enjoy the festival. I believe you’ll like what you see.”

And at that, they’re departing the small booth and heading back out into the bustling street. Sokka is quick to link arms with Zuko once more, a wide grin spreading over his face, and Zuko can’t help but laugh and mutter out, _“What?”_

“What, _what?”_ Sokka retorts, glancing in Zuko’s direction. He’s barely able to contain his excitement. It’s a good look on him. 

“What’s that look for?” Zuko clarifies, “You look like you’re about to tell me -”

“I told you so?” Sokka finishes with a laugh, “Yeah, that’s because I am. That woman had _no idea_ that the Fire Lord himself was right there in her stall. _I told you_ this was a great idea!”

Zuko doesn’t have the heart to correct him. That, and he selfishly loves to watch Sokka like this - giddy and excited and _in his element._ So he lets him have this. He doesn’t show his hand quite yet - doesn’t tell Sokka of his conversation with Sira and certainly doesn’t show him what he purchased from her, either. He supposes that _that_ can wait for later. Instead, for now, he allows Sokka to pull him along through the busy street, from vibrant stall to delicious food vendor until _finally,_ they’re exhausted enough to return home.

* * *

After a long day wandering throughout the festival, Zuko expects to feel tired after they return back to the vacation home on the beach, but even after they stop by the market to purchase something to make for dinner _and_ eat, he still feels like he’s buzzing with unused, anxious energy. Maybe, it’s due to the fact that the whale bone blade still sits at the bottom of his satchel, a secret between him and Sira because he has absolutely _no idea_ how he should present it to the other man. Just… _giving it to him_ doesn’t feel right. The moment needs to be perfect. He needs to find the right words to say to tell Sokka how much he means to him, how much he appreciates his friendship and -

 _Agni,_ it’s not like he’s proposing to the guy. He should just give it to him. Don’t make such a big deal about it. 

Just as he’s considering that, though, Sokka approaches him where he sits at the kitchen table, knocking into his knee playfully. “Hey,” he says in greeting. “I’m bored. Wanna spar?”

And _yeah._ Yeah, he does. If anything will help him clear his mind, it’s sparring with Sokka. So Zuko agrees, and within twenty minutes, Sokka is offering a helping hand and hoisting him back to his feet in the sand. They’re both panting with exertion, but Sokka is clearly winning after getting Zuko to yield not once, but twice now. 

Only five minutes into their match, and after Zuko already knocked him onto his ass once, Sokka had discarded his tunic, tossing it unceremoniously into the sand. Unbeknownst to him, it was honestly a good offensive tactic. Zuko had quickly gotten distracted by Sokka’s bare chest, his toned abdomen and his strong arms, and it took no time at all before the Water Tribe warrior was throwing him down to the ground. The third round had been a close call - Zuko was determined not to let his attraction to the other man distract him - but ultimately, Sokka still managed to catch him off guard and throw him to the ground when Zuko was momentarily distracted by the way that the sunlight glinted off of his sweat-slicked skin.

And _spirits,_ Zuko is really done for, isn’t he? 

Zuko takes Sokka’s hand and allows the other man to pull him to his feet with a teasing smile. “Come on, _Fire Lord,_ I know you can do better than that!” Sokka taunts once they take their stances again.

“Sokka,” Zuko hisses in response, despite the fact they’re the only people around on this particular section of the beach, _“Quiet!”_

Sokka just rolls his eyes in response, clearly unbothered. “Oh, whatever,” he retorts, “Nobody can hear me, and even if they could _I_ might as well be Fire Lord if I keep kicking your ass in hand to hand combat.”

Zuko snorts out a laugh, shaking his head in response. “Too bad I didn’t bring my crown.”

“I’ll hold you to it, when we get back,” Sokka continues to tease, something playful and dangerous glinting in his eyes, _“Fire Lord Sokka._ It has a nice ring to it.”

 _Yeah, it really does,_ Zuko finds himself thinking. It’s stupid, really, nothing more than just a crush, but he can’t help but daydream about it a little bit. Sokka’s state of undress doesn’t really help with that, either. 

“Remind me to marry into royalty, so I can go mad with power one day,” Sokka continues, shaking Zuko from his thoughts, and he forces himself to ignore what _that_ thought does to him as well.

By the time they head back up to the house, Zuko’s body is sore and his skin is warm from spending nearly the whole day in the sun and he wants nothing more than to just close his eyes and _relax._ Unfortunately, however, when he _does_ eventually climb into bed and close his eyes, he’s plagued by images of Sokka, grinning wildly at him on the beach, Sokka, shirtless and breathing heavily and demanding, _“Is that all you got?!”_ Sokka, eyes wide as he took in the trinkets and weapons and clothing inside Sira’s booth. 

Sokka. Sokka. _Sokka._

Zuko sits up in bed, scrubbing his hands roughly over his face, willing himself to think of something, _anything_ other than the man just a room away from him, likely sleeping soundly in his own bed. The man who took it upon himself to bring Zuko here out of the kindness of his own heart. Because _that’s who he is._

Eventually, Zuko’s thoughts float to the dagger still hidden in the bottom of his satchel, then to the small stall that Sira inhabited. Sira, who sticks out in his head as one of the few Fire Nation citizens that actually _gets it._ Rationally, he knows that there are more people like her - more people who are compassionate and caring, who want peace and unity between the nations, who feel ashamed and embarrassed of the Fire Nation’s past mistakes… but they’re few and far between, especially in the capital. It seems that the close one gets to the capital the more… _purist_ people tend to be. It’s harder to convince those who haven’t _seen_ the violence and pain and heartache of war that it’s not worth fighting anymore, that their seemingly flawless leader _made mistakes._

While his interaction with Sira left Zuko feeling hopeful that afternoon, it has him feeling overwhelmed now, as he sits up in bed, because _not everyone is like her._ He knows, deep down, that generations of hatred and genocide and _war_ will be nearly impossible to mend in his lifetime alone. It’s going to take decades to undo the actions of his father and his grandfather and his great grandfather. Zuko is only _three years in_ and he’s already so. fucking. tired.

It all suddenly feels so _overwhelming_ that he can’t just sit here, in the bed that once belonged to his _father_ and lie to himself by saying that a simple vacation is going to just magically fix things. It won’t he knows that. 

With a deep breath, Zuko hauls himself up and out of bed. In the darkness, he grabs for his discarded tunic and pants, then quietly exits his bedroom barefoot. He doesn’t even bother putting on shoes before padding down the stairs and slipping out the front door without another thought. The walk down to the beach isn’t long, and right now, he just needs to get away from that suffocating house and the memories that it holds. He needs to clear his head. 

As he makes the trek down to the beach, the nearly full moon easily lighting his path, Zuko’s mind wanders back to one of the last times he visited Ember Island, before everything changed. It had been just before the eclipse, with Mai, Ty Lee and Azula, and he can’t help but think of what Lo and Li had told them when they first arrived:

_The beach has a special way of smoothing even the most ragged edges._

Back then, their words rang true. He can’t help but hope if maybe, sitting out on the beach will have the same effect on him again this time around. He could use some smoothing. 

Once he has put enough distance between himself and the house, Zuko takes a seat in the sand. When the waves wash ashore, the water just barely laps at his toes. It’s quiet. Peaceful.

But still, his mind is loud. After all, it’s not the house or that bed or even this _place_ that has Zuko’s mind running a million miles a minute. It’s the damn war that has been over for three years now, yet he still feels like he’s fighting every single day. It’s the Ozai loyalists and their seemingly never-ending assassination attempts and the fact that Zuko knows that _one day,_ they’re going to be successful. It’s the fact that his friends flew halfway across the world to _be there for him,_ and he still feels like he doesn’t contribute enough to their friendship. And it’s _Sokka,_ who has continuously gone above and beyond for him despite the fact that he doesn’t deserve it. Sokka, who planned this perfect getaway only for Zuko to _still_ wallow in self-hatred and anger and frustration at the end of the night. 

Sokka, who Zuko can’t stop his mind wandering to again and again and again. It’s his stupid crush on Sokka and the fact that it’s getting harder and harder for him to stop himself from staring and _fuck,_ leave it to Zuko to get this attached to the first person who actually _cares about him_ since Mai. 

With an exasperated groan, Zuko flops onto his back in the sand, squeezing his eyes shut tight, hoping that if he wills it enough, maybe he’ll just disappear like Aang did the day before the comet three years ago. Of course, that doesn’t happen, and eventually, Zuko has to open his eyes again. 

When he does, something hovers over him, obstructing his view of the moon. 

It only takes a few seconds for his eyes to focus on Sokka’s silhouette. 

Zuko sighs, feeling his entire body deflate. _“Hey.”_

Sokka, looming over him, cocks his head to the side in a manner that would normally appear comical, but Zuko _really isn’t in the mood._ Apparently, that’s written all over his face because Sokka frowns then and asks, “Trouble sleeping?”

There’s no point in lying, Zuko thinks, so after just a moment’s hesitation, he utters, “Yeah.”

Sokka moves then, taking a seat next to him, but Zuko doesn’t shift quite yet. He knows that when he sits up, there will be no hiding from the other man, so he takes another moment to himself, lying on his back in the sand, trying to rein in his emotions. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Sokka asks after a beat of silence, and Zuko wants nothing more than to laugh at the question. He means well - of course he does, he _always_ does - but little does he know, he’s part of the reason why Zuko can’t sleep. It’s not _his_ fault, of course, but that doesn’t matter. 

Zuko swallows. “Not really.” His tone is short, clipped. He wonders if he keeps it like this, Sokka will take the hint and leave.

He doesn’t

“That’s cool,” he retorts with a shrug, “We can just sit here in silence, too. I’m down with whatever.”

Zuko snorts out a short laugh in response, and when he glances in Sokka’s direction, the other man is gazing down at him, a smile dancing across his lips.

_Fuck._

Zuko clears his throat and in an attempt to stop himself from staring at Sokka, he decides to direct a question his way. “Why are _you_ out here?” It’s not accusatory by any means, but Zuko _is_ curious. What does Sokka have to lose sleep over? What could possibly be bothering him?

Sokka takes a deep breath and leans back on his hands, just a little bit closer to Zuko’s level. “I’ve been thinking about Sira,” he admits, “The woman back at the festival.”

Zuko hums in understanding. So that’s one thing that they have in common. 

“I’ve been thinking about what she said - how she chose to leave her life in the Fire Nation behind when she discovered what her father was doing to the Water Tribe…” he continues, “And I can’t help but wish it were that easy for everyone, you know?”

Zuko finally hauls himself up into a sitting position at that. This conversation deserves his full attention. “What do you mean?” he asks.

Sokka just shrugs in response. “Just… Imagine if every Fire Nation citizen, even the Ozai loyalists, could see things the way she did. It would be so much easier if they just _understood.”_

Ah. So Sokka’s thoughts haven’t been too far off from his own. “They’ll never understand,” Zuko mutters, and _spirits,_ it sounds so depressing out loud, but it’s true. “They’ve never known what it’s like to struggle. To want. To feel pain and loss because of the war. Sira is an outlier. She saw what was happening, and instead of feeling pride for her nation, she felt ashamed and embarrassed. Not everyone can see things the way she does, though.”

Sokka huffs. Apparently, that wasn’t the response he was looking for. “Well, what about _you?”_ he questions defensively, “You were _royalty._ You were next in line for the throne, and all you had to do was capture the Avatar, but you _didn’t._ ”

“It took me _years_ to figure out that I was on the wrong side, and I was just a kid,” Zuko argues back gently, “Some of these people… they’ve lived their entire lives truly believing that what they were doing was right. They’re not going to be so easily swayed.”

Sokka doesn’t immediately say anything in response. Instead, he just gazes out at the water in front of him, his face hard to read. Zuko follows his gaze, taking in the way that the reflection of the moon dances across the waves as the water washes ashore again and again. It’s a never-ending cycle, a push and a pull, and it reminds Zuko of a fateful night at the North Pole. 

When Sokka had first told him that his first girlfriend turned into the moon, Zuko knew that he wasn’t lying, but what the hell do you say to someone who just… _opens up to you like that?_

As he follows Sokka’s gaze, he can’t help but think of that night and wonder if somehow, he was partially responsible for that. He’s sure that he’s responsible for many of the hardships in Sokka’s life, in one way or another, and suddenly, a wave of guilt washes over him. Great, yet another reason to lose sleep.

Before Zuko can censor himself, he hears himself ask, “Why are you so nice to me?”

Sokka quickly turns to look at him, ripping his eyes away from the beautiful sight in front of him, and when he’s met with the serious look on Zuko’s face, he huffs out a laugh. “Are you serious?” he asks. When Zuko doesn’t immediately say anything in response, that tells him all he needs to hear. He lets out a deep breath. 

“Well, uh… because I’m your friend, and that’s what friends do,” he finally answers, “You _do_ know that, right Zuko?”

Zuko just groans in response. “No,” he mutters, “I mean, you’re just - after _everything_ I’ve - you… _I don’t know._ Just forget it.”

He can’t quite get the words out the way he wants to. What he _wants_ to say is that, after everything he’s done, all the ways he has wronged Sokka and Katara and Aang, he’s still _so fucking nice to him,_ and it really makes no sense. But he doesn’t know how to word it properly, so the words come out in an aborted, half-spoken mess. You’d think at nineteen he wouldn’t be such an awkward idiot anymore.

Sokka, in return, just raises an eyebrow at him, trying to decipher his words. 

Zuko sighs and tries again, this time a little gentler, a little simpler. “You’re just… always _there_ when I need someone to talk to, and you’re never bothered by it. I just - I don’t know what I did to deserve this, I guess.”

And at _that,_ Sokka _laughs._ It’s not a deep, hearty laugh by any means, but more so a lighthearted, relieved thing. When Zuko just looks at him expectantly, he explains, “Are you kidding me, man? _That’s what I’m here for._ I know it sounds pretty simple, but _that’s what friends do._ I’d be a pretty shitty friend if I was _bothered_ to hear about your problems.”

_Oh._

Well, when he puts it like that. 

Zuko lets out a deep breath that he didn’t know he was holding, rasping a soft, _“Yeah,”_ on the exhale. 

“So…” Sokka presses gently after a moment’s hesitation, “You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

Zuko glances at Sokka, and for a moment, he’s overcome with a wave of emotion. He feels eternally grateful to have someone like Sokka in his life, but at the same time, he still feels like he has done absolutely _nothing_ to deserve him. That, and he _wants._ He wants nothing more than to cave in, to _take,_ to tell Sokka of the feelings that he has been harboring for _who knows how long now,_ but he can’t.

He _does_ , however, want to talk about it. At least, some of it. The parts of it that don’t involve his stupid, childish crush.

“I - I don’t know,” he mutters at last, “Maybe it’s this place. This house. Maybe it’s the fact that I _ran away_ from my problems instead of facing them head on -”

“You’re not _running away,”_ Sokka argues gently and Zuko _knows_ that he’s right, but his point still stands. 

“Whatever it is, I just… Like you said, meeting Sira has me _thinking about things,”_ Zuko admits. “It’s overwhelming, knowing that I’ll probably never be able to _fix everything._ Sometimes I feel like I don’t really belong anywhere, if that makes sense. I don’t belong on the throne, where councilmen and ambassadors and my own _fucking advisors_ all judge and criticize every move I make. Even three years in, my own people still hate me, still want me dead, but it’s not like I belong anywhere else. I don’t belong in Ba Sing Se with Uncle. And, I already know what you’ll say to this, but sometimes I still don’t feel like I belong in our group - Katara, Aang, Toph, Suki… you. I feel like I’m still making up for all of my past mistakes. I don’t know. I guess I feel lost. I always have, and I thought it would go away once we defeated my father, but I’ve never felt _more_ lost, now.”

As soon as he starts speaking, he can’t stop, and before long, Zuko realizes that he’s on the verge of tears. He reins himself in at the last possible moment, just before the waterworks start flowing, but he knows that Sokka _sees him._

_“I know,”_ Sokka says, his voice understanding and empathetic. Of course he knows, Zuko has almost had this exact conversation with him once before, sitting outside in the palace courtyard, near the turtleduck pond. But he doesn’t sound frustrated or annoyed. Just… sad. “You know it’s okay that you don’t have it all figured out yet, _right?”_ he asks, shaking Zuko from his thoughts, “I mean, _shit,_ Zuko, you’re barely even nineteen. Things aren’t going to be perfect for a long time. It’s going to be a process, and _that’s okay.”_

“You’re right,” Zuko mutters, “I know you are. And I’m sure that this is getting redundant, it’s just -”

“Hard,” Sokka supplies, “I know. _Trust me,_ I know. I don’t have it the same as you do, but even going back home to the South Pole was hard for Katara and I, too. After so long away from home, it almost felt like we didn’t belong there anymore, like we were outsiders in our own home. But then we go elsewhere and it’s like… we don’t belong _there_ , either. So believe me, I understand. Maybe not on the same level as you, but I do. I think that’s just a side effect from all of this…” 

Zuko huffs out a humorless laugh. “It’s a bitch, huh?”

“You can say that again,” Sokka agrees with a smile. But then, he’s reaching out, pulling Zuko close with an arm around his shoulders. “But that’s why we’ve got each other. Okay?”

Zuko wants nothing more than to melt into Sokka’s touch, to admit that he isn’t so scared of the future as long as they have each other. But he doesn’t instead, he nods and mutters, “You always know the right thing to say.”

In response, Sokka tips his head back, letting out a surprised laugh. “I try,” he says around a smile. 

Then, before Zuko can get _too_ comfortable in Sokka’s embrace, the other man is standing and holding out a hand to pull him to his feet. “Come on,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a soft tone, “I have a feeling we’re both going to sleep much better, now.”

And if they hold hands all the way back up to the house, Zuko would swear up and down that it was only because it was difficult to see the path in the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never originally planned on creating and OC for this fic, but then that scene kind of just HAPPENED and I'm actually really happy with how it turned out. ALSO, the inscription on the whale bone dagger is a reference to the song "Without Fear" by Dermot Kennedy - the song that this fic is named after. It makes me feel lots of feelings.


	5. Chapter 5 - Something Happened When You Were A Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Sokka get drunk, see a play, watch some fireworks, braid each other's hair and talk about Zuko’s childhood. 
> 
> Oh MAN, I am so fucking excited to share this chapter. A lot of this dialogue was some of the first I wrote/thought of when I first started working on this fic. Also sorry not sorry, it’s a MONSTER of a chapter. 
> 
> ALSO, I recently started a new position at work and have been working/training a lot more than expected, so I apologize for the inconsistent updates! I'm going to try to update at least every other week, but please bear with me. Thank you all for reading so far! ❤️
> 
> For anyone who might be interested, [here's a little playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1uW2T1F3IvNL0OGiINcJ5x?si=WVsv2gWkTCqwxQIG8HswYg) I made of songs that I was listening to while writing this fic/songs that chapters are named after.

_ One of your eyes is  
Always half-shut  
Something happened when you were a kid  
I didn't know you then  
And I'll never understand  
Why it feels like I did _

\- "[Smoke Signals"](https://open.spotify.com/track/5g97GAdru7XfeJyJhViIll?si=GKKfxGtSTbeYXD4XpXtMVQ) \- Phoebe Bridgers

* * *

The next morning, Zuko wakes feeling refreshed and centered for the first time in a long time. 

When he first opens his eyes, the sunlight isn’t  _ quite _ shining in through the bedroom window just yet, as it had been when he awoke the day prior, but instead, he finds that the room is bathed in a soft pink light, signifying daybreak. As he throws the covers off and nearly  _ hops _ out of bed, Zuko tells himself that he’s feeling great because he finally had some time to rest and relax, that it has nothing to do with his time spent with Sokka and their subsequent heart-to-heart before bed. 

He knows that he’s lying to himself, but it makes him feel better about his whole… situation, so he lets it slide.

Sokka’s bedroom door is still closed when Zuko pads quietly down the hall a few minutes later, fully dressed and ready to take on the day. And when he steps outside and into the early morning light, the sun just _ barely _ peeking over the water on the horizon, he actually feels a little grateful that he has this moment to himself - no Sokka to distract him. He could use a good,  _ proper _ early morning meditation. 

Just outside of the house, Zuko takes a seat in the grass, facing east, and after taking a moment to get comfortable, he closes his eyes. He has been meditating since he was young, but he never quite understood the proper way to do it until he was in his teens, until he was traveling the world, searching for the Avatar. His uncle always had much more patience for meditation than his father or even his own sister, so it came as no surprise when Iroh began to instruct him on proper technique, just a few months into their time together, when Zuko’s banishment was still fresh and he would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. His uncle taught him how to breathe, how to stoke his inner fire and not only use it to better his firebending, but also to bring calm and balance to his daily life. Granted, it took some time for Zuko to fully understand what he meant, but at nearly twenty years old, he finally gets it.

Zuko takes a deep breath - in through his nose - and lets the warm feeling of the early summer sun on his face trickle down throughout his entire body, from his head to his chest to his fingertips and his toes. He clears his mind, letting all thoughts and worries float away in the cool morning air, and in their place, he lets the embers of a fire grow, controlled and calm and  _ warm. _ When he exhales - out through his mouth - Zuko feels the tension leaving his body, he feels his muscles relaxing and the warmth of his inner fire spreading throughout his body. 

He’s not sure how long he spends sitting outside before he hears the front door creak open and the telltale sound of bare feet on the weathered wooden porch of the beach house. Before Sokka even approaches him, Zuko’s eyes are already open, gazing out over the sun, which has fully risen over the water. 

“Good morning,” Zuko murmurs in greeting as he stands and turns to face Sokka.

Sokka still looks a bit groggy with sleep, as if he just woke up. His hair is down and he’s still wearing the same clothes as the night before and the sight of him, half awake, brings a smile to Zuko’s face. 

“You seem to be feeling better this morning,” Sokka mutters, offering Zuko a halfhearted smirk. 

“I am,” he doesn’t see a point in lying, not when Sokka could easily snuff it out. The fact of the matter is, he  _ is _ feeling better. Whether it’s because he got a good night’s sleep or because he had the chance to meditate properly or  _ maybe, _ because he got to spend some good quality time with his best friend, he doesn’t say. Instead, he just takes a few steps forward towards his companion. “How did  _ you _ sleep?”

Sokka yawns. “Could’ve slept longer, but you were meditating too loud.”

Zuko snorts out a laugh at Sokka’s dry sense of humor. “Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me to the market to find something for breakfast, but if you’re too tired…”

“No!” Sokka nearly exclaims, interrupting him before he can finish. “No, I’m fine - I’ll get dressed and we can go!”

Zuko, as he walks past, smirks to himself, knowing full well that the promise of a hearty breakfast would be enough to kick Sokka into gear.

* * *

“Now  _ this _ is what I call a vacation,” Sokka expresses only a few hours later as he lounges back on a large, maroon beach towel, only feet from where he and Zuko sat on the shore the night prior. Zuko, who sits next to him, stripped down to nothing but a simple pair of dark brown shorts, honestly couldn’t agree more. The mood is  _ drastically _ different from their first day on Ember Island, and with few people nearby (the sandy area surrounding the house is a bit secluded from the public beach) Zuko feels comfortable and safe for now, letting his hair down both figuratively and literally. 

“I’m not gonna lie… this isn’t bad,” Zuko admits, a small smile touching his face as he takes in the sight of Sokka, shirtless and shoeless, basking in the sunlight. It reminds him of a time only a few short years ago, when he, Sokka, Suki, Katara, Aang and Toph stayed in this exact house just days before Sozin’s Comet arrived and the world changed forever. Only this time, Zuko actually feels comfortable enough to relax on the beach with Sokka. 

_ Sokka, _ who has changed considerably in the three years since then. Three years have been kind to him. He has grown from a gangly, goofy sixteen year old into a slightly less gangly, more muscular and taller, goofy young man. Looking back on it, Zuko can’t believe how young they were back then, how the fate of the world somehow fell into the hands of six kids who barely knew what they were doing. 

They’ve both grown and changed considerably since then - and not just physically, either. Zuko was once terrified to lead his nation, afraid that he might fail, that he might follow in his father’s footsteps, and although in some ways that fear hasn’t disappeared, he takes pride in his work and the changes that he has made in the past three years. Sokka was  _ always  _ a genius tactician and a skilled swordsman, but he has grown considerably in those roles over the past three years, all while working alongside his tribe to rebuild the South Pole  _ and _ traveling alongside Katara and Aang as they continue to bring balance to the world.

But right now, as Sokka shoots Zuko a wild grin while he buries his own feet in the sand, Zuko can’t help but think that some things  _ haven’t  _ changed one bit.

Sokka seems to sense him staring at cocks his head to the side, a stray strand of hair falling into his eyes. “What?” he asks before blowing a puff of air at the flyaway, which just falls right back into his line of vision. 

Zuko huffs out a quiet laugh. “Nothing,” he murmurs, “Just… thinking about the last time we were here, is all.”

Sokka offers him a smile. “What, when you were too big of a party pooper to have some fun on the beach?”

“I - you were -” Zuko sputters, attempting to string together a proper sentence, “It was only  _ days  _ before the comet,  _ can you blame me?” _

Sokka hums thoughtfully. “In retrospect, no,” he says with a shrug, “But you have to admit, you  _ were _ pretty grumpy back then.”

Rather than retorting with a witty comment, Zuko opts to respond with  _ action _ instead. Quickly, before Sokka can anticipate what’s coming, Zuko reaches down to grab a handful of damp sand at his feet and lobs it in Sokka’s direction. The wet sand ball explodes upon hitting Sokka in the shoulder, sending clumps of sand all over his towel and torso, and for a moment, Sokka just stares at him with wide eyes, flabbergasted. 

Then, as quick as lightning, he’s moving, lunging from his space on his towel towards Zuko, who anticipates his move and leaps to his feet to avoid the impact. Sokka is quick to react, though, jumping to his feet as well, and then suddenly, both men are sprinting towards the water. 

“You’re going to pay for that,  _ jerkbender!” _ Sokka calls after him, but there’s no venom in his voice and Zuko can’t stop himself from laughing. 

* * *

Hours later, once both men have attempted to wash all traces of sand from their bodies and hair (Zuko shudders when he thinks of the way that Sokka had called truce, only to dump a handful of wet sand on top of his head) they head out of the house once more - this time, in the direction of the festival. 

“The flyers said that most events wouldn’t start until about an hour until sunset, but it couldn’t hurt to head down early and grab a bite to eat,” Sokka explains as they make their way back to the town square for the second time in two days. The weather is mild, just as it had been the day prior, with only a few fluffy clouds dotting the horizon. Soon, they’ll be painted pink and purple and orange with the sunset, and Zuko will try his damndest not to admire the way that the colors dance off of Sokka’s skin, as well. He shakes that thought from his head as soon as it appears. 

When they arrive, just a little over an hour before sunset, it’s to find that the town square is already bustling with activity. Gone are the booths filled with artwork, clothing and weaponry from the day before, and in their place is what appears to be a fully-fledged  _ carnival, _ complete with games, attractions, food vendors and clearly - judging by the inebriated man who stumbles past them as they step into the festival grounds - plenty of alcohol. 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sokka asks, shooting Zuko a mischievous look once they pass a group of young men and women, all holding glasses of what appear to be mixed drinks and wine -  _ plenty _ of wine. 

Zuko snorts out a laugh in response, his eyes following the group for a moment, but when he glances up at Sokka to respond, something just over the water tribeseman’s shoulder catches his eye. It’s a flyer, posted to the side of a food cart, and Zuko would recognize the artwork and text  _ anywhere. _ After all, he saw it enough as a young child for it to permanently ruin live theatre for him. “Yeah,” he mutters, motioning in its general direction, “Get drunk enough to actually make it through an Ember Island Players performance?”

Sokka’s eyes go wide - Zuko can’t tell if it’s with excitement or surprise or  _ maybe _ a little bit of both - and he spins on his heel, following Zuko’s line of vision until he spots the flyer as well. Wordlessly, he rips it off of the side of the cart, despite the protest of the man behind it, and quickly skims over it before glancing up at Zuko, a dangerous smile spreading across his face.  _ “Zuko -” _

Zuko, regretting even pointing it out to Sokka, crosses his arms over his chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh,  _ we’re going,” _ Sokka insists, nearly buzzing with excitement,  _ “We have to! _ Come on!”

“Have you forgotten the  _ last _ Ember Island Players performance we saw?” Zuko grits out in response. His mind drifts back to that performance and how he’d felt afterwards - embarrassed and ashamed and annoyed. Terrible acting aside, that entire night only served to remind him of all of his past mistakes. He hates to think about it. 

Zuko half expects Sokka to argue, to insist that the last play that they saw together was  _ hilarious  _ \- because by all accounts,  _ Sokka’s _ character  _ was _ pretty spot-on - but instead, Sokka surprises him by taking a step forward and placing a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he insists, his voice taking on a softer, gentler quality. But then, he pushes the flyer into Zuko’s chest and adds, “But if it makes you feel any better, this play  _ isn’t  _ about us - it looks like some cheesy love story, and all I’m saying is it might actually be pretty fun to get completely  _ sloshed _ and go make fun of their acting, yeah?”

Zuko glances up at Sokka, who’s looking at him with earnest, eager eyes, then down at the flyer, which depicts two main characters - a muscular man with shaggy dark hair and a delicate looking female lead, decked out in all blue, hiding behind a fan - alongside what appears to be a typical “bad guy” protagonist and plenty of symbolic imagery like dragons and flowers and water and fire that makes for a confusing, yet somewhat amusing advertisement for -

_ “The Heartbender?” _ Zuko reads the title incredulously, looking up at Sokka, then back down at the flyer again. 

Sokka barks out a laugh. “Sounds amazing,  _ right?” _ he can barely keep his voice even when he asks the question before bursting out laughing once more, and that alone is enough to convince Zuko that they should go.

“Fine,” Zuko agrees, committing the sight of Sokka, nearly doubled over in laughter, his eyes shining, to memory. “We can go, under one condition -”

“We drink beforehand?” Sokka asks eagerly. 

“We drink  _ a lot _ beforehand,” Zuko agrees. 

By the time they take a seat in the theatre - the same theatre that they saw a play called  _ The Boy in the Iceberg  _ in a little over three years ago - both Sokka and Zuko have had enough drinks to feel good, but thankfully for those around them, not enough to render them completely belligerent. Throughout the duration of the play, they whisper snarky comments back and forth to each other, sniggering at its cheesier moments and stifling full-on laughter at cringy displays of affection on stage. The play itself is difficult to follow, especially after a few drinks, but from what Zuko can gather, it tells the story of a young Fire Nation noble who defies his family by turning down a political arranged marriage to follow his heart and find his one true love - a beautiful Water Tribe princess. 

As the plotline of the play unfolds before them, Zuko feels grateful that they decided to drink ahead of time, because if he had to watch this cheesy, romantic performance  _ sober, _ all while sitting next to the equivalent of the  _ Prince of the Southern Water Tribe _ and the subject of his  _ own _ affections, he probably would have died from second-hand embarrassment. Instead, Zuko ignores the story’s similarities to his  _ own _ pathetic crush on the man sitting next to him and finds himself giggling throughout the majority of the performance as Sokka makes snarky comments next to him. 

The climax performance finds the Fire Nation noble and Water Tribe princess standing atop an iceberg while she’s clutching onto him in an over dramatic display of affection, proclaiming -

_ “You might not be the master of all four elements, but you  _ are _ the master of my heart!” _

\- and as Zuko leans into Sokka to mumble something about how  _ cheesy  _ the line is, he stops himself just before he forms the words, because Sokka is sitting next to him, eyes locked on the stage in rapt attention and he’s…  _ he’s wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, _ sniffling just a bit at the performance. He’s  _ fucking crying. _

And -

Zuko can’t help himself. He chokes out a loud, surprised laugh before he even considers the ramifications of his actions, because he  _ knew _ that Sokka was a sucker for live theatre, but he didn’t actually think that this poorly-acted excuse for a play would actually get to him and  _ suddenly, _ Sokka is staring at him with wide, surprised eyes. But it’s not just  _ Sokka. _ The other attendees in the seats around them have turned to see what all of the commotion is about and even the  _ actors on stage _ have paused, if just for a second, taken aback by the sudden outburst. 

And that only makes things worse. Zuko, ducking his head down to avoid being noticed with so many eyes suddenly on him, clamps a hand over his own mouth, unable to stifle his laughter, and  _ that’s _ what does it for Sokka, who only hesitates for a moment before snorting out a laugh of his own. Before long, both young men are practically  _ clinging onto one another _ , struggling to hold back their laughter, uncaring about the judgemental eyes on them or the fact that the actors on stage are struggling to get back into character because  _ the show must go on. _ In fact, that only makes it worse, and Zuko can’t help himself as he doubles over, burying his face in Sokka’s shoulder, gasping out -

_ “Sokka -  _ fuck - we should -”

_ “Yeah,” _ Sokka rasps, his voice high and tight, as if he’s struggling to hold himself together, “Let’s go.”

At that, Sokka is grabbing Zuko’s arm and dragging him out of his seat. Thankfully, they chose aisle seats near the back of the theatre, so the commotion of them getting up and running out of the building doesn’t earn any more head-turns than their poorly timed laughter did, and before long, they’re escaping into the mild, summer night air outside. 

_ “I can’t believe you!” _ Sokka exclaims, hands on his knees, still doubled over from laughing until his stomach hurts, only a few moments after they make their hasty exit from the building. “For someone who grew up going to plays, you really have no respect for -”

_ “You were crying!” _ Zuko shoots back incredulously before Sokka can continue to tease him. He’s still trying to calm himself, still panting and out of breath and  _ spirits, _ he can’t remember the last time he laughed this hard and his face hurts from smiling, but he  _ will not _ let Sokka make this out to be his fault. “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen and  _ you _ \- you -”

“It was  _ romantic!” _ Sokka insists in defense, and  _ that _ has Zuko doubling over in laughter again, even as Sokka smacks him playfully, begging him to stop. 

“Oh  _ Sokka,” _ Zuko coos, falling against the non-bender, fully expecting him to catch his weight. Sure enough, Sokka does, and Zuko tips his head back, placing the back of his hand on his head like a damsel in distress. “You might not be the master of all four elements,” he teases, mimicking the cheesy line from the play that they just so rudely interrupted, “But  _ you’re the master of my heart!” _

Zuko, in his intoxicated, high on laughter, carefree state, half expects Sokka to burst out laughing at his awful acting or at the very least, drop him on the ground, annoyed with his antics, but the other man does  _ neither. _ When his teasing doesn’t immediately garner a reaction, Zuko cracks an eye open to look up at Sokka, who’s still holding onto him at an awkward angle, and when he does, his breath catches in his throat. 

Because Sokka is looking down at him, eyes blown wide, lips parted, and he looks - 

Well, he looks absolutely _ stunning. _

The sun has long since gone down, with only dark, muted reds, blues and purples painting the sky where it has dipped below the horizon, but it’s not _ dark _ outside by any means. The festival around them is in full swing, with lanterns and torches casting a glow throughout the town square and effectively lighting up Sokka’s skin in warm, rich hues. The colors, much like his deep red tunic, compliment Sokka’s complexion and contrast his bright blue eyes perfectly, and it stirs something possessive deep down inside of Zuko, something that has him opening and closing his mouth, unsure of what he wants to do or say, if anything. 

For a moment, time seems to stand still, then, just as Zuko thinks he’s about to muster up the courage to  _ say something _ to the other man, who’s still gazing down at him as if he can’t believe what he’s looking at, the first firework goes off in the distance, lighting up the sky in bright pinks and purples and effectively shattering the moment between them. 

Both men start at the sudden  _ BANG _ that echoes throughout the city streets, and just like that, the spell is broken. Zuko stands up straight and Sokka turns, and  _ that’s that. _ The rest of the fireworks follow quickly after the first, and before long, Sokka is grabbing Zuko’s hand and dragging him through the crowd to get a better view of the show. 

Zuko, however, is still dazed, even as he follows Sokka, even as he holds the other man’s hand and weaves with him throughout the crowd. Sure, the fireworks are _ beautiful, _ but Zuko can’t seem to take his eyes off of Sokka. 

Sokka, who watches the display with a youthful, open look of wonder on his face that reminds Zuko of the boy he first met when they were both just  _ kids _ growing up in this weird, broken world. It hasn’t been too long since then, but sometimes, it feels like decades since they were on the road together, preparing to save the world. Sometimes, Zuko forgets that it was only a few years ago that things were so  _ different. _ But right now, watching the way that Sokka gazes awestruck at the vibrant fireworks display, Zuko is reminded of how little time has passed since then, of how little has changed since then.

He is  _ also _ reminded of how completely  _ enamored _ he is with the other man, and for a moment, he wants nothing more than to run away, or to stand here and take in the sight of him, committing it to memory. 

He chooses the former. 

“I’m going to buy us some drinks,” Zuko leans in to Sokka to announce in between loud  _ pops _ and  _ bangs _ of the fireworks. 

But when he moves to leave, Sokka grabs his hand again, effectively stopping him in his tracks. “But the show -”

And  _ spirits, _ the look on his face... if Zuko thought Sokka at sunset, Sokka under the bright full moon or Sokka lit up by lanterns was stunning, then Sokka, his face illuminated by flashing reds and pinks and purples of the fireworks is enough to stop him dead in his tracks. It’s enough to nearly stop his heart. And  _ shit, _ maybe that  _ Heartbender _ play was really onto something. 

“I’ll be right back,” Zuko forces himself to say before he can get caught staring at Sokka for too long, “I promise.”

The other man seems to take that as  _ good enough _ because eventually he lets go of his hand, but not before leaning in and requesting, a playful smile dancing across his face, “Find some Fire Whiskey, if you can.” 

So that’s exactly what Zuko does. After Sokka finally allows him to walk away, Zuko practically  _ darts _ to the nearest tavern he can find and, after bartering with the bartender for a short period of time, he eventually coaxes them into selling him an entire bottle of whiskey. After purchasing the bottle (for significantly more than he would have paid back in Caldera City, but he just shrugs it off) he takes his time returning back to where Sokka stands, watching the fireworks, attempting to take a moment to clear his head, to calm his emotions. 

Sure, he and Sokka have had a great couple of days on Ember Island, and  _ sure _ , he looks absolutely  _ beautiful _ right now under the lights and the fireworks, with a flush to his cheeks from having a few drinks, but  _ Zuko knows better. _ Nothing is going to happen between them, and nothing  _ should. _ And as he walks back to Sokka, he reminds himself of this, repeating it like a mantra in his head.

But when Sokka turns to look at him when he returns, a wide smile flashing across his face, all of those thoughts go flying out the window. 

* * *

Just a little over an hour later, that’s how Zuko finds himself sitting out on the beach in front of the vacation home, passing the bottle of Fire Whiskey back and forth between him and Sokka. Following the firework display, the two of them had wandered throughout the rest of the festival, but after quickly becoming bored, they made their way back to the beach and settled down in the sand, deciding that the night was too nice not to enjoy. 

“Y’know,” Sokka mumbles, grabbing the bottle from Zuko when he offers it, then taking a generous swig of the amber liquid (and no, Zuko certainly doesn’t watch the way his throat bobs when he swallows, nor do his eyes dance over Sokka’s profile as he tips his head back afterwards, leaning backwards on his hands). “When I told you to get some Fire Whiskey, I didn’t mean an  _ entire bottle. _ But good job, Zuko. Damn.”

Zuko just shrugs, taking the bottle back from him before taking a swig himself. He isn’t completely drunk by any means, but the buzz he had earlier is still going strong, and the Fire Whiskey is a familiar, warm burn as it makes its way down his throat. His body feels loose and relaxed and for the first time in a long time, he feels like he can let his guard down, if even just for a little bit. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all!” Sokka exclaims, a smile dancing across his face. It’s dark now, where they sit out on the beach, but the light from the nearly full moon reflecting off of the water is enough to slightly illuminate Sokka’s face. They’re sitting close together, just a few inches between them, so his dazzling smile is easy to spot, even in the moonlight. “It’s a perfect ending to a great day, if I do say so myself,” Sokka adds after a moment of silence, and Zuko nods in agreement. 

In an effort to tear his lingering gaze from the other man, Zuko busies himself, pulling his hair down from where it sat in a high bun on his head before flopping down into the sand, opting to look up at the stars above them instead. “I’m glad we went,” he murmurs softly, almost to himself. 

It’s quiet enough, though, that Sokka hears him over the lapping of the waves on the beach and the din of voices and music off in the distance. “Yeah?” Sokka asks as he lays down next to him, back in Zuko’s line of vision, seemingly unaware of what his presence does to him. “Even the play?”

Zuko side-eyes Sokka from where he lays in the sand, offering him a lopsided, playful smile. “Yeah, even the play,” he admits, “It was worth it, if for nothing else but to see you cry at their terrible acting.”

Sokka barks out a laugh at Zuko’s teasing, shaking his head in the sand. “Look, I  _ know _ they’re not great actors, but in  _ my _ defense, it  _ was _ a really sweet story,  _ okay?” _

Zuko snorts out a laugh as well. “It and every other play about  _ star-crossed lovers,” _ he retorts with an eye roll. 

Sokka sits up a little bit at that, turning so that he’s laying on his side, his head propped up by his hand. “Alright, mister  _ theatre critic,” _ he teases, “If you have  _ such high standards, _ why don’t you take me to see a show once we get back to Caldera City?”

Zuko opens, then closes his mouth, unsure of what to say, because  _ yeah, _ he’d love to take Sokka to a  _ real _ show, and now he’s imagining him all dressed up in formal Fire Nation attire - or hell, even Water Tribe blues because  _ it doesn’t fucking matter, he’d look good in either _ \- sitting next to him in a fancy theatre in the capital and -

He has to shake that thought from his head before it short-circuits his brain. Instead, he just offers Sokka what he hopes is a casual smile and replies, “Fine. I will, then you’ll see what it’s all about.”

“It’s a date,” Sokka retorts with a soft laugh, and if the mental image of him dressed up in formal attire wasn’t enough to put Zuko’s brain offline, then  _ that _ is.  _ Obviously, _ Sokka doesn’t mean it in the way that Zuko  _ hopes _ he does, but he still can’t stop himself from hyper fixating on the word - date,  _ date, _ he’s going to take Sokka on a date - and completely freezing, eyes wide as he stares at the other man. 

For a long, torturous moment, it’s quiet between them, Zuko unsure of what to say in response, his reflexes and self-control dulled by the alcohol, and Sokka just offers him a goofy, lopsided smile, seemingly unaware of the complete  _ meltdown _ that Zuko is having internally. 

Mercifully, either because he notices Zuko’s awkward silence or because he has a short attention span and is likely pretty buzzed as well, Sokka eventually changes the subject. It’s random and completely unexpected and nearly sends Zuko into cardiac arrest  _ again, _ but at least it gets the word  _ date _ out of his head when Sokka’s gaze lingers on him for just a little too long and he murmurs, quietly, “Your hair has gotten so long…”

Zuko stares at Sokka for what feels like  _ way too long, _ trying to decipher what he just said and determine if he’s just hearing things before finally, he blinks and responds, awkwardly glancing to the side, where his hair is splayed out in the dark sand, “Uh -  _ yeah. _ It has.” 

“Sorry,” Sokka says, offering him a small, tight smile, “It’s just - you never really wear it down. I didn’t realize -”

_ How much I look like my father? _

Zuko thinks the words, but he doesn’t say them. The truth is, the first time he saw his reflection with his hair down, when it just began to touch his shoulders, he wanted nothing more than to shear it all off. He always looked more like Ozai than his mother, and with long hair, the similarities are uncanny. Rather than shaving his entire head once more, though, Zuko just opted to wear his hair up most of the time. 

“Yeah,” Zuko manages to mutter out, finding that an excuse comes rather easy, “It can be hard to maintain, so…” He shrugs, hoping that Sokka understands, hoping that he drops the subject. It’s easier than explaining that firebenders take great pride in their hair, that it serves as a symbol of honor and dignity and he  _ hates _ the fact that he looks like a spitting image of his father like this. 

Sokka hums thoughtfully, his eyes momentarily leaving Zuko in favor of gazing out into the night sky instead. “You know, back in the South Pole, most people braid their hair to maintain it,” he says, his voice taking on a far away quality. “It has been so long since Katara has worn hers in braids, that I almost forgot - but Sira, yesterday, reminded me. It should have been obvious, when we stepped into her booth, y’know?”

Zuko sits up slightly, his hands in the sand, his hair falling over his shoulders. “I didn’t think that the hairstyle looked very  _ Fire Nation,” _ he comments. He watches Sokka as he gazes out over the water and wonders if he misses home, when he’s away for so long like this. Suddenly, he wants nothing more than to listen to the other man talk about the South Pole, his culture,  _ anything that he’s passionate about,  _ really. 

“Not at all,” Sokka agrees with a smile, his eyes flicking back to Zuko. “It was kind of refreshing to see, though - the blending of those two cultures.”

_ Kind of like us, _ Zuko thinks, but doesn’t say. He doesn’t trust himself not to say something stupid if those words make their way out, so he keeps his mouth shut. 

“You know…” Sokka murmurs, shaking him from his thoughts. “If you wanted… I could - I mean, I always braided Katara’s hair when we were younger… I still remember - if you wouldn’t mind.”

Zuko blinks once, twice, trying to process Sokka’s words. He wants to -

He wants to braid his hair. Okay. Yeah. Sure. Zuko heard him right. There’s nothing weird about that, right? Just two bros, hanging out on the beach, drinking and swapping stories and braiding each other’s hair. Normal best friend shit. 

On one hand, Zuko absolutely  _ thrills _ at the idea of Sokka touching him, at the thought of Sokka running his fingers through his hair. 

And on the other, he can’t help but think about what  _ his father _ of all people would think of this - him sitting on the beach, getting drunk while some boy styles his hair in customary Water Tribe braids. He’d see it as a direct attack on the royal family. A disgrace. Dishonorable. A firebender -  _ the Fire Lord -  _ styling his hair like those  _ Water Tribe savages _ rather than wearing it in a customary top knot? Hell, maybe he’ll even pay his father a visit with a braid in his hair, just to see the look on his face. 

So Zuko tries not to act  _ too _ excited when he says yes, and before long, he’s sitting cross-legged in front of Sokka in the sand while the other man combs his fingers through his hair, separating it into three chunks at the top of his head. And for a moment, Zuko just lets himself  _ be. _ Reaching down into the sand, he grabs for the bottle of whiskey, taking another long pull of it before relaxing into Sokka’s touch. 

Sokka’s touch, which has him closing his eyes and leaning back ever so slightly, reveling in the way that his hands feel in his hair.

It feels like an eternity before Sokka eventually breaks the comfortable silence, snapping Zuko out of his near meditative reverie when he muses, “Y’know… you’ve come a long way from when we first met…”

Zuko doesn’t open his eyes at Sokka’s words, but he  _ does _ huff out a quiet laugh in response. “You say that like you miss when I was hunting you guys down,” he murmurs, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

Sokka chuckles, and Zuko all but commits the sound of it to memory.  _ “Trying,” _ he teases, “Trying to hunt us down. You just got lucky half the time.”

If turning around to shoot a glare in Sokka’s direction wouldn’t result in Zuko’s hair getting pulled roughly, Zuko would have quickly spun to argue with the other man. Instead, he has to settle for biting back,  _ “Did not.” _

“I’d beg to differ,” Sokka continues to tease, but before Zuko can argue any more, he elaborates, “It’s not  _ that, _ though. It’s just… I never would have been able to imagine myself  _ like this, _ when I thought about the future.” 

Zuko feels himself deflate. He tries not to sound disappointed when he sighs,  _ “Oh.” _

“No,  _ not like that,” _ Sokka insists quickly, “I’m glad we’re here, trust me. It’s just, the idea of sitting on the beach  _ braiding the Fire Lord’s hair _ wasn’t really in the cards back then.”

Sokka’s fingers in his hair are gentle. They don’t fumble at Zuko’s assumption, nor do his movements pause as he speaks. Blunt fingernails scrape softly against his scalp as Sokka gathers more pieces of hair to add to the braid down the center of his head. 

“No… I guess I would have been pretty surprised if you would have told me we’d be here, too,” Zuko agrees, his eyes falling closed once more. And if he leans into the touch, that’s between him, Sokka, the ocean and the moon. 

Sokka hums softly in agreement, and for a moment, it falls silent between them again, just the sound of the ocean and the wind and distant music between them. 

“I remember how closed off you were, when you first joined us,” Sokka muses after just another minute, breaking the comfortable silence once more. Zuko’s not quite sure where he’s going with it, until he adds teasingly, “It took a fuckin’ prison break to finally get you to open up to me.”

Zuko snorts out a laugh at that. “I needed to know that I could trust you.”

“So you snuck me into a high security Fire Nation prison without a proper escape plan and trusted me to get you out of there alive,” Sokka deadpans. 

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” Zuko teases back. 

This time, it’s Sokka’s turn to laugh. “So…” he muses, “Would you say that your love language is committing crimes together?”

_ Yeah, _ Zuko finds himself thinking,  _ and going to shitty plays together, and sitting out on the beach in the middle of the night, reminiscing on our younger years and braiding each other’s hair.  _

Before he has a chance to respond to  _ that _ comment, though, Sokka is speaking again. 

“I’m just glad that you’re not still rocking that same shitty hairdo,” he says with a chuckle, “I mean, no offense, Zuko, but that ponytail?  _ Spirits. _ Trust me when I say that the long hair is a much better look on you.”

And at  _ that, _ Zuko opens his eyes. 

It’s not the first time that someone has mentioned his old phoenix tail, but it  _ is _ the first time that Sokka has brought it up recently, at least to him. Really, the comment shouldn’t hit  _ that _ hard. After all, he’s certain that Sokka doesn’t know the meaning behind the hairstyle and he definitely doesn’t know why his hair  _ looked like that _ when they first met. It would be easy to let the comment slide, to make an off-hand remark back at Sokka and let it be. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he kept it to himself. 

But deep down, some small part of Zuko  _ wants _ him to know. He wants _ someone _ other than his uncle and his sister and his father and  _ every fucking Fire Nation citizen who just sat there and watched _ to know. 

Sokka seems to notice the way that Zuko has gone rigid at his comment and backpedals a bit. “You okay?” he asks, then quickly adds, “Sorry, I didn’t mean - you know I’m just teasing, I -”

“Did you know that in the Fire Nation, the top knot is a symbol of honor?” Zuko asks, cutting Sokka off. His heart is hammering in his chest and the voice in his head screams at him to  _ shut up, _ that this is a bad idea, but he ignores it. 

Sokka’s hands pause for a moment, as if he’s waiting for him to continue, and Zuko can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he likely tries to make sense of what he was just told. “That makes sense,” he murmurs after a few quiet seconds, his hands moving once more. “Kind of like how the wolf tail is worn by the warriors in my tribe.”

“Exactly,” Zuko confirms. And for a moment, that’s it. For a moment, it goes quiet between them again, as Zuko forms the words in his head, as he tries to figure out the right way to say it aloud. It isn’t until the words are there, on the tip of his tongue, that he realizes that he hasn’t told this story himself before. He has heard it in the hushed whispers of the members of his crew when he was still out at sea, in the not so quiet voices of merchants in seaside Earth Kingdom cities, in the story that his uncle would divulge to those close to him. He has  _ seen it _ in the eyes of the older guards and noblemen and advisors and maids around the palace, just before they avert their gaze. 

But he’s never said it himself. 

Zuko swallows hard, then decides  _ fuck it. _ He’s sick and tired of his father holding  _ this _ over him as well. He needs to take this part of himself back, and who better to do that with than someone he trusts as much as Sokka?

“In Fire Nation culture, if a firebender loses an Agni Kai of great importance, they will shave their head in an act of humility,” he explains, his voice sounding foreign and far away in his ringing ears. “Because the top knot is considered sacred, it stays.”

Okay, so he doesn’t quite come outright and say it, but he knows that Sokka is smart. He’ll be able to put the pieces together. 

The hands in his hair freeze once more and Zuko tenses, waiting for the words to come.

_ “Zuko,” _ Sokka’s voice has always been a comforting thing, a joke when he needs to laugh, lighthearted encouragement when he needs that extra push, a comforting murmur when he needs a shoulder to lean on, but he’s never heard it quite like this. He sounds pained. Hurt. Surprised. Angry. He stumbles over his words, trying to make sense of what Zuko just told him. “So you - does that mean - when you -”

“When I was thirteen,” Zuko responds, putting Sokka out of his misery, “I lost, so…”

He’s almost there, can almost form the words. 

“Is that how -”

Sokka doesn't have to finish the question. Zuko knows what he means. 

_ Is that how you got your scar? _

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and nods against the gentle hands, still buried in his hair. 

_ “Yes.” _

Those gentle fingers tighten in his hair for a split second, before nearly letting go completely. 

_ “Zuko.” _

And now that he knows, now that the floodgates are open, Zuko can’t stop himself. He can’t stop the words from coming, because he’s old enough to know now that his father was in the wrong, that  _ he didn’t deserve what happened to him, _ and he wants to take control of the narrative. He’d rather Sokka hear it from him, than anyone else. 

“I spoke out of turn and criticized a general during a war meeting,” he explains. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember it like it was yesterday. He doesn’t  _ want that, _ though, so he keeps them open, staring out at the ocean, as if the waves and the reflection of the moon can ground him to the here and now. He tells the story like a sequence of events, keeping himself as separated from it as possible. The last thing he needs is to trigger a panic attack by reliving one of the worst days of his life. “My father demanded that I fight in an Agni Kai as punishment, and I accepted, thinking that I’d be facing the general, hoping that I could prove to my father just how  _ capable _ I was. But when I turned around, it wasn’t the general - it was… He - my father -”

Finally, Zuko chokes on his words. He can’t get them out, can’t force himself to speak.

_ He did this to me. My own father. He was supposed to love me and instead, he did this to me.  _

Mercifully, Sokka seems to understand and cuts his suffering short. 

_ “Shit, _ stop,” Sokka hisses, his hands suddenly abandoning the braid in Zuko’s hair to fall to his shoulders instead. He scoots backwards in the sand quickly, pulling Zuko so that they’re halfway facing each other as he scrambles to find the right words. “Stop - I’ve heard enough. I don’t want you to - you don’t need to -  _ fuck, _ Zuko, I didn’t -”

“It’s okay,” Zuko finally manages to rasp out in response. Acting on their own volition, Zuko’s hands move to cover Sokka’s, as if the  _ other _ man is the one who needs comforting. “I wasn’t sure if you knew - I wouldn’t have told you if I didn’t want you to know.” 

_ “Fuck,” _ Sokka repeats, and then, without warning, he’s pulling Zuko forward into a tight embrace. 

At first, Zuko just freezes, his arms hanging uselessly at his sides, unsure of how to react or what to do, but once it becomes clear that Sokka  _ isn’t letting go, _ that he’s  _ hugging him, _ Zuko finally returns the action, his arms wrapping around his middle. As soon as he does - as soon as he moves - Sokka’s grip on him tightens impossibly, as if by hugging him like this, he could rid Zuko of his past trauma and remind him that he is so,  _ so _ loved. 

And for a moment, they remain like that, just clutching onto one another. Zuko takes, then exhales a deep breath, his body deflating and relaxing just a little bit, and he can’t help it when he lets his head fall to Sokka’s shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut. In moments like this, he’s eternally grateful for his uncle, for every positive influence in his life, because it terrifies him to think of what he could have been, where he would have ended up, if he weren’t here. 

The silence and the feeling of Sokka’s arms wrapped around him is comforting and reassuring - he is loved, he did the right thing, he has people who care about him - but nothing can prepare him for the  _ sound _ of Sokka’s voice when he eventually speaks once more. It cracks with emotion, his chest rumbling against Zuko when he murmurs gently, “You know you didn’t deserve that,  _ right?” _

At just a little over six years since the incident itself, Zuko  _ knows _ that he has people that care about him, that he didn’t deserve the cards that he was dealt, but sometimes, it feels good to be reminded, especially in moments like this, half-drunk on the beach in the middle of the night with Sokka’s arms wrapped tightly and protectively around him. He doesn’t pull away, too afraid of how it might feel when Sokka lets go, and instead, nods against him. 

“It took me a long time to figure that out, but  _ yeah,” _ he mutters, his voice muffled by Sokka’s shoulder, “I know.”

Sokka exhales a deep breath, as if he wasn’t sure how Zuko was going to respond, and even nods against him as well. “Good,” he mutters, but he still doesn’t let go. Instead, he pauses for a moment before adding, “You’re nothing like him, you know.”

It isn’t a question. He isn’t  _ asking _ Zuko if he knows that he’s nothing like his father. It’s a statement. 

_ You’re nothing like him. _

Zuko’s breath catches in his throat at the words. Deep down, he knows them to be true - after all, it’s why his father’s loyalists want him dead - but there’s some part at him, the part that makes it hard to sleep, hard to make difficult decisions, to rule his nation as a patient and kind leader, that thinks that  _ maybe, _ he  _ is _ like his father. His father, who did everything within his power to ensure that he took the throne. His father, who  _ tortured _ a thirteen year old boy for speaking out of turn, who’s cruel form of love made his daughter go mad.

Zuko really, truly hopes that he never ends up like his father, but at the end of the day, it’s in his blood. He can’t deny his lineage. 

So, before he has a chance to think about the way that Sokka might take his words, he chokes out, quiet and insecure -

“I can’t be so sure of that.”

Sokka moves so suddenly and abruptly that Zuko barely has a chance to register what’s happening until he pulls away fully, holding him at arm’s length, his hands reaching up to cup his face. Reflexively, Zuko flinches and he can’t help but feel embarrassed about the way he  _ still, _ six years later, balks whenever someone puts their hand near his face, scarred both literally and figuratively by his father. 

Sokka notices, but he doesn’t shy away. Instead, he’s careful to slow his movements, letting his left hand fall to the junction of Zuko’s neck and shoulder while the right one ever so gently cradles his cheek. 

_ “Hey,” _ Sokka says softly, and the gentle tone of his voice is something that Zuko has never heard before. How, three years into their friendship, he hasn’t seen this side of Sokka yet, is a mystery. 

“Look at me,” Sokka urges. Although the  _ last _ thing Zuko wants to do is look Sokka in the eyes, for fear of the other man seeing him like this, stripped bare and  _ terrified, _ he listens. He looks up at Sokka, who just shoots him a gentle, reassuring smile and says, “You are  _ nothing _ like your father. You’re kind and compassionate and you want to  _ help people. _ You try so hard to do the right thing that sometimes it’s actually kind of precious and  _ seriously, _ Zuko, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who  _ cares _ as much as you do. You’re the best thing to ever happen to the Fire Nation and I’m so grateful to call you a friend. So don’t you  _ dare, _ for one second, think that you’re anything like him,  _ okay?” _

Zuko doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t the passionate, rambled speech that just spilled out of Sokka’s mouth. And truthfully, that’s what really does it for him. Months of Sokka’s kind words after sparring sessions and these past two days of carefree fun on Ember Island coupled with the earnest look that Sokka’s face as he  _ insists _ that he’s better than his father, that he’s the best thing to happen to the Fire Nation, is enough to push Zuko over the edge. 

_ “Shit,” _ he hisses, ducking his head. He squeezes his eyes shut, willing the tears away, knowing that once they start, he won’t be able to stop them. He can count on one hand the number of times he has cried in the past three years, and he doesn’t want to add this embarrassing moment to the short list. 

Sokka, however, is unrelenting. He doesn’t let go of Zuko, even as he attempts to turn his head to the side and hide the emotion on his face. Instead, Sokka’s touch becomes impossibly more gentle, his thumb softly brushing his right cheek, his fingers tickling the back of his neck on the left side as if to say _ I’m not going anywhere. _

“I swear,” Sokka breathes, his voice nothing more than a hushed whisper, “I’m going to fucking  _ kill him _ when we get back. You deserve  _ so much better _ than this, Zuko.” 

Zuko, in response, chokes back a sob, shaking his head against Sokka’s touch. 

“I don’t deserve someone like you.” 

He doesn’t mean for the words to slip out, but they do, and once more, Sokka is quick to come to his defense. 

_ “Don’t say that shit,”  _ he hisses. His right hand moves, fingers hooking underneath Zuko’s jaw to pull his head up, to force him to look him in the eyes. Zuko’s first instinct is to balk at the touch, to turn away and put his guard up, but as soon as he meets Sokka’s intense gaze, he feels frozen on the spot. 

_ “Yes, _ you do,” Sokka insists firmly, his tone even and sure, “Did you not hear a single word that I just said? You deserve  _ so much.” _

Zuko opens his mouth to speak, to argue, to apologize, to beg Sokka to  _ stop looking at him like that _ or something, but the words die on his tongue. His mouth goes dry and suddenly, he forgets everything that he was about to say. Through bleary eyes, Zuko holds Sokka’s gaze and for a moment, it feels like the world has stopped turning around them. Nothing else matters but this moment. 

The shift of Sokka’s gaze is so, _ so _ subtle, but Zuko notices it. He doesn’t miss when Sokka’s eyes dart down to his lips, then back up, and suddenly, it feels like his throat is closing up, he can hear his heartbeat in his ears and everywhere that Sokka is  _ touching him _ feels like it’s on fire; his jaw, his cheek, his neck, the place where their knees knock together awkwardly in the sand and - 

His lips. 

It takes Zuko a moment to register what’s happening - that Sokka has leaned in, closing the distance between them - but once he does, he is quick to return the gesture, pressing eagerly into the kiss.

_ The kiss,  _ because  _ Sokka is kissing him. _

And  _ fuck, _ if that speech and his touch and  _ this entire night _ wasn’t enough to make his head spin, then the press of Sokka’s lips and the feeling of his fingers tangling in his hair  _ is _ . 

Zuko sighs out on a shaky exhale, then gathers himself enough to kiss Sokka back with gusto, his own hand reaching to cradle the back of his head, the other pulling him impossibly closer. He tilts his head, parts his lips and deepens the kiss, reveling in the taste of the other man who, if he’s being honest, he has been pining over for  _ years _ now. And for a moment, nothing else matters but  _ this  _ \- this moment, right now, the two of them kissing on the beach.

That is, until Sokka abruptly pulls away and the perfect moment all but shatters around them.

It only takes one look at Sokka’s wide eyes and his still parted lips for Zuko to realize that this was a mistake - that _ Sokka _ thinks that this was a mistake. And  _ fuck, _ really, what was he thinking? Why did he think that he could have  _ this? _ He literally just finished telling Sokka that he didn’t deserve someone like him, so is he really surprised? 

_ “Shit,” _ Zuko breathes, apologizing because, even though he wasn’t the one to initiate the kiss, he went along with it, and more importantly, he has been dreaming about what it would be like to kiss Sokka for  _ months _ now. “Sokka, I’m sorry - I -”

“It’s okay,” Sokka insists before he can even finish getting the words out. He reaches out, but stops himself just inches from touching Zuko, his hands hovering awkwardly over him. His eyes are still wide with surprise, but he doesn’t look  _ angry, _ and that’s a good thing, right? “I - you -  _ it’s okay,” _ he repeats, clearly trying to make sense of what just happened as well. “Let’s - we should go to bed.”

Zuko swallows hard, not trusting himself to say anything out loud in response and instead, just nods in agreement. He sways a little when he stands, the half-drunk bottle of Fire Whiskey laying forgotten in the sand, and as they silently make their way back up to the beach house by the full moonlight, Zuko can feel himself beginning to unravel, just like the half-finished braid down the center of his head. 


	6. Chapter 6 - In Too Deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, this one took MUCH longer than I anticipated to get up. Work has been a little nuts lately and I've been a little unexpectedly busy, but I promise I won't be abandoning this story! Thank you all for your patience with this ❤️
> 
> This chapter was a bittersweet one to work on. I can't wait to share the next few!

_ I'm a deep sea diver holdin' my breath  
But it's plain to see if you know me  
I'm a deep sea diver and I'm in too deep _

"[Deep Sea Diver](https://open.spotify.com/album/4Kxg3nNcAClXuJTNJTxbd8?si=wJHrlYrlTk-WV3VcL_Wz2A)" - Briston Maroney

* * *

Even Zuko’s hangover the next morning isn’t enough to distract him or make him forget about what happened the night before. The moment that he opens his eyes, squinting against the harsh, warm sunlight (which appears to be mocking him as it shines in through the curtains as if to say,  _ “It’s a beautiful day for you to ruin a friendship!”) _ he is cruelly reminded of the events of the night before: 

Standing outside of the theatre and laughing until his sides hurt. Watching the fireworks nearly as intently as he watched the look of wonder and excitement on Sokka’s face. Purchasing that damned bottle of Fire Whiskey and sitting out on the beach, leaning into Sokka’s touch as he braided his hair. Telling Sokka about his father. His scar. Sokka’s too-sweet words and his gentle touch.

_ The kiss. _

Zuko remembers it all, and as soon as it all comes rushing back to him, he groans loudly, pulling the pillow over his head, attempting to will himself out of existence. 

Why couldn’t he just  _ control _ himself? Why didn’t he stop Sokka? Why did he kiss back? Why did he drink so much? Why didn’t he drink _ more? _ (At least then, he wouldn’t be plagued with these embarrassing memories.)

Zuko can remember everything with alarming detail, and he wants nothing more than to disappear, to run away and start a new life here on Ember Island, away from his duties as a Fire Lord and his embarrassing shortcomings as a friend. 

He should have stopped Sokka. He shouldn’t have kissed back. He should have retained some semblance of restraint or control, but the second that the other man looked at him with those eager, piercing blue eyes, he was done for. He shouldn’t have trusted himself so much. He knew it was only a matter of time before he crumpled under the pressure, before he caved and gave into his wants and desires, because he’s only human after all. A very, very flawed human, despite what Sokka might say.

Zuko swears into the pillow, his voice muffled by soft silk sheets. 

_ Sokka. _

Sokka, who’s either asleep just down the hall, or downstairs eating breakfast, or hell, maybe on a ship back to the South Pole right now. Honestly, Zuko wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to get as far away as possible right now, if he wanted to go home and never come back. If he were in Sokka’s place, he’d run away, too. 

(As it turns out, Sokka doesn’t leave, though. He doesn’t run away and he doesn’t tell Zuko that he never wants to see him again, because he’s a  _ good friend. _ A better friend than Zuko could ever hope to be.)

Eventually, Zuko manages to pull himself out of bed, despite his raging headache and his embarrassment and shame. After getting dressed and detangling his hair from the remnants of the half-finished braid from the night before and pulling it into a tight bun on the top of his head, Zuko takes a deep breath and makes his way downstairs, deciding that it’s best if he faces Sokka head-on. It’ll be best if he gets this over with and out of the way now, rather than drawing the whole process out. 

The house is eerily quiet as Zuko pads though it on bare feet, and for a terrifying, fleeting moment, he actually wonders if Sokka  _ did _ leave, if last night was so terrible, so embarrassing and shameful, that he caught the earliest ship that he could find and left. 

It isn’t until he hears a loud  _ clang _ of metal crashing in the courtyard outside that Zuko realizes that he’s stupid for assuming the worst. Sokka is too  _ kind _ to just leave, even after the events of the night before. 

When he steps out through the back door, Zuko is met with the sight of Sokka, shirtless and sweaty, training with his sword in the very same courtyard where Zuko trained Aang just before the comet a little over three years ago. He doesn’t notice Zuko’s presence at first, and selfishly, Zuko doesn’t rush to make himself known. Instead, he just freezes in the doorway, unable to take his eyes off of Sokka, wondering if this is the last time that he’ll be able to openly stare at him like this without the other man knowing what the weight of his gaze truly means. 

It’s not that Zuko  _ means _ to ogle at Sokka, necessarily, but he can’t help it, not when the other man is moving gracefully around the courtyard, clearly practicing his footwork without the aid of a partner to spar with or even a practice dummy to hack apart. Sokka is breathing heavily, as if he has been at this for a while now, his shoulders moving with each deep inhale and exhale, but his form is nearly  _ flawless. _ He moves with much more grace and agility than he had when he was just a sixteen year old, fresh-faced swordsman, ready to take on the world. Now, Sokka’s sword works as an extension of his body, his feet carry him with ease, and each movement has purpose. 

When he swings his blade through the air, Zuko can nearly feel the blowback, nearly hear it singing as he moves. The sight takes his breath away, and he realizes, as he watches Sokka move, just how much the other man has grown up in the past three years. Long gone is the scared kid who wanted more than anything to prove himself to his father, and in his place is a skilled warrior who moves with confidence and precision that can only come with experience. As he watches Sokka move throughout the courtyard, he can’t help but think back to their conversation the night prior, and something that Sokka said as he ran his fingers through his hair -

_ “I never would have been able to imagine myself like this, when I thought about the future.” _

Obviously, the night before, Sokka had said it in reference to the fact that he was sitting out on the beach, getting drunk and braiding the Fire Lord’s hair, but his words ring true with Zuko even now. Three years ago, he never would have imagined himself where he is now, and not just the whole  _ Fire Lord _ bit of things, but his friendship with Sokka. With Katara and Aang, Suki and Toph. He never once imagined that he’d gain lifelong friends out of that war and his hunt for the Avatar, yet here he is, standing in the doorway of the royal vacation home on Ember Island, watching as a skilled Water Tribe warrior trains in the courtyard, hoping and praying that he still wants to be friends, even after everything that happened the night before. 

And  _ spirits… _ he can’t afford to lose Sokka. He can’t afford to lose a single one of them. 

So, after just a few minutes, Zuko decides to make his presence known. They might as well get this over with, after all. 

After just a moment of deliberation, Zuko takes a few steps forward, down into the courtyard where he pauses on the very last step, waiting for Sokka to notice him. It doesn’t take long, as he moves throughout his forms, for Sokka’s eyes to eventually land on the space where Zuko stands, but to his credit, he doesn’t lose his cool or drop his sword or really even flinch.

Instead, he just relaxes his stance and offers Zuko a warm, wide smile before calling out, “You’re finally up!”

And  _ oh. _ Okay. Not quite what Zuko expected, but he can work with that. Sort of.

He clears his throat, and answers, as evenly as possible, “Yeah.”

Well, at least he didn’t fuck  _ that  _ up. If he can get through one word, maybe the others will come easier as well.

Seemingly deciding that he’s done enough training for one morning, Sokka sheaths his sword and begins to make his way across the courtyard, taking in Zuko’s form as he does so. Once he’s close enough to talk without needing to raise his voice, he remarks, a teasing tone to his voice, “You look like shit.” 

Again, not exactly what Zuko expected. He raises an eyebrow at Sokka and struggles to find the right words to say, momentarily distracted by his bare torso and his muscles and his dazzling smile and the way that his eyes sparkle in the sunlight, even after a night of heavy drinking and probably a pretty early morning and -

_ Focus, Zuko. _

Right.

He scratches at the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he mutters, “Well. Fire whiskey.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing you  _ this _ hungover,” Sokka teases, his grin stretching easily across his face and - 

_ How the hell is he acting so casual right now? _

Apparently, Zuko is either still half awake, or his brain to mouth filter isn’t working quite yet, or he’s just so hungover that he really doesn’t care, because before he can stop himself, he’s blurting out exactly what he’s thinking. 

“How the hell are you acting so casual right now?”

Yep, definitely not how Zuko planned on breaching the subject. If he had planned on bringing it up at all, he wanted to do so delicately, then apologize profusely, but now that it’s out in the open, he supposes he’ll jump in headfirst and think about the consequences of his actions later. Many things have changed in the past three years. His impulse control, unfortunately, still needs some work. 

Thankfully, Sokka takes his comment in stride, snorting out a short, surprised laugh. “Well, shit,” he mutters, scratching at the back of his neck, “Uh… I planned on maybe talking about this over a greasy breakfast, but I mean, I guess now works too…”

Zuko has to stop himself from full-on facepalming. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t slowly drag his hand down his face, groaning loudly into his palm. 

“I’m an idiot,” Zuko immediately begins to ramble, his words unplanned and not thought out in the slightest, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have - I mean you - and we were  _ drinking _ \- I completely understand if you don’t -”

“If I don’t  _ what,  _ Zuko?” Sokka asks cautiously, putting him out of his misery by interrupting his stream of consciousness. 

Zuko swallows hard, forcing himself to look Sokka in the eye from between his fingers when he says, “If you don’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Sokka’s eyebrows shoot up his head in surprise, his eyes going wide. “If I don’t -” he repeats quietly, his eyes quickly narrowing in confusion, “What gives you  _ that _ idea?”

“Well…”  _ Shit. _ Zuko didn’t plan this far ahead. He didn’t plan _ any _ of this, actually. He doesn’t know what to say to Sokka, doesn’t know whether he should beat around the bush or just come right out and say it, so he does his best to fumble through the words, hoping that they string together to form something coherent. “I mean… Last night. I had a lot of fun. But I know - I mean, you’re with Suki - and it’s not like  _ we _ \-  _ I mean, _ we’re friends, and -”

“We kissed,” Sokka supplies matter of factly, putting Zuko out of his misery. 

_ “Yeah,” _ Zuko chokes out in response.

What he  _ doesn’t _ expect is for Sokka to actually  _ laugh _ at him. Okay, it isn’t a full-on laugh, but more of a lighthearted chuckle, but still, he laughs, and Zuko’s eyes go wide. 

“What -”

“Hey, I’ll kiss my friends any day,” Sokka says with a casual shrug and an easygoing smile. “It’s fine. I get it. We were both drinking. Emotions were running high.”

“I -  _ really?” _ Zuko stammers, trying to make sense of this all. How is Sokka so blasé about the whole ordeal? How has this not altered his perception of Zuko? Is he just playing it cool? If he is putting on an act, he’s doing a damn good job of it. 

Sokka claps a hand on Zuko’s shoulder, fixing him with yet another one of his dazzling smiles.  _ “Yeah,” _ he insists, “We’re good. I swear.”

Then, with a chuckle, he adds, “I’m sure Suki will get a kick out of it.”

Zuko groans, his embarrassment somehow doubling, rather than subsiding.  _ “Please _ don’t tell her,” he begs, “I think the embarrassment will kill me if she doesn’t.”

Sokka just shakes his head fondly in response, insisting, “She won’t kill you. Now come on, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Even as Sokka begins to ascend the stairs that Zuko  _ just _ walked down a few minutes ago, Zuko remains rooted in his spot, staring dumbfounded at him. This certainly isn’t how he expected this talk to go. Hell, he isn’t even sure  _ how _ he expected it to go, really, but it sure as shit wasn’t  _ this. _

So he can’t help it when he calls out after Sokka, still reeling, “You’re not leaving?”

Sokka turns at that, offering Zuko a quizzical look before a small smile finds its way onto his face. “What?  _ No, _ man, of course not,” he answers, “Do you really think a little kiss is gonna fuck up our entire friendship?  _ Come on.” _

And, well… when he puts it  _ that  _ way.

Zuko finally follows Sokka back up the stairs towards the house, and as he does so, he tells himself that this is  _ good, _ that this is the best possible way that the conversation  _ could have _ gone.

So why does he feel so disappointed? 

* * *

“You know,” Sokka muses just a few hours later, as they relax down by the beach, soaking up some much-needed sun, “You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed.”

Zuko… doesn’t know what to do with that information. What exactly is he supposed to say? It’s not like the topic of sexuality or past lovers has ever really come up in conversation between them before. Zuko isn’t exactly advertising the fact that he’s attracted to men and as far as he’s aware, Sokka has only ever had  _ girlfriends, _ and they’ve really had no reason to  _ talk about it _ until now -  _ now _ that they’ve kissed.

And  _ spirits, _ Zuko wants to groan. He wants to yell and tell Sokka how he really feels, that he doesn’t want to brush this all to the side and forget that anything ever happened,  _ but their talk earlier went so well, _ and he doesn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t have Sokka in his life. So he pushes those thoughts and feelings down and sucks it up. And in response to Sokka’s admission, he just hums thoughtfully, unsure of what to say. 

_ Apparently, _ that says it all for Sokka, who gasps quietly next to him. When Zuko turns to face him, the sun shining brightly in his eyes, Sokka is looking at him with his own wide-eyed gaze. 

“Wait, Zuko - have you -”

Zuko clears his throat, averting his gaze. Alright, well, so much for not having  _ this  _ conversation. Apparently anything is on the table, now.

Knowing that Sokka is eagerly awaiting an answer and, judging by his reaction to last night’s…  _ situation, _ Zuko safely assumes that he won’t receive any backlash from his friend for being honest. And  _ wow, _ what was it that Lo and Li said about Ember Island revealing the  _ true you _ or whatever? They were right back then, and they are now, and Zuko still can’t decide if he resents them for it or not. 

“Uh…  _ yeah,” _ he mutters quietly, suddenly very interested in the sand beneath him, unwilling to look up at Sokka when he speaks. “I have.”

_ “Oh shit,”  _ Sokka breathes, but he doesn’t sound angry, or confused or disappointed. In fact, he just sounds excited - eager to learn more. In his peripheral, Zuko notices the way the Sokka scoots a little bit closer to him as he asks, “How was it?  _ When was it?  _ Wait - was it someone I know?”

There’s a lot to be said about how  _ enthusiastic _ Sokka gets upon finding out that Zuko  _ has, _ in fact, kissed another man before him, but Zuko chooses not to look into that too closely right now. Instead, his lips form a thin, tight line before he admits quietly, “You know Jet,  _ right?” _

He  _ knows _ that Sokka knows Jet. Still, it’s the most passive way to admit that he casually made out with the Freedom Fighter once or twice before he tried to kill him and his uncle in a tea shop and eventually, was taken away by the Dai Lee. 

Sokka’s eyes widen comically at the admission and he shifts in the sand, providing Zuko with his full attention.

(And Zuko tries not to think about the fact that, less than twenty-four hours ago,  _ they _ were kissing on this very beach.)

“Holy  _ shit,” _ Sokka all but exclaims, “Why was  _ everyone  _ into that guy?  _ Ugh, _ he was the worst! I mean I know it’s not polite to speak ill of -”

“It was back before I knew -” Zuko cuts Sokka off before he can finish his thought. The last thing he wants to think about is the fact that Jet  _ isn’t _ around anymore, that maybe, that’s partially  _ his _ fault. That’s a conversation for another time, so instead, he explains, finally meeting Sokka’s gaze, “I know, he could be an asshole, but he had some redeeming qualities, and well… I was lonely, and trying to figure things out and -”

Sokka puts a hand up as if to silence him. “Say no more,” he insists, “Trust me. I get it. He had that whole… edgy cool guy thing going on,  _ I guess. _ ”

Zuko forces out a short laugh.  _ “Yeah.” _

Sokka reaches forward then, placing a hand on his shoulder as he insists, “We’ve  _ gotta _ find you a boyfriend.”

This time, when Zuko laughs once more, it’s surprised and loud. “Please,  _ no,” _ he begs, mortified at the idea of Sokka trying to set him up with someone. 

Sokka, to his credit, takes it in stride.  _ “Girlfriend?” _ he offers, shooting him a curious look. 

And…  _ okay. _ Honestly, this conversation went _ much _ better than Zuko was expecting, but there’s one glaring problem.

Zuko doesn’t  _ want _ a boyfriend. He doesn’t want a girlfriend, either. He really doesn’t want to pursue  _ any _ romantic relationship right now, unless it is...

_ No. _

He shakes that thought from his head. 

The last thing he wants is to try to navigate  _ courting _ someone when he returns to Caldera City. How could he expect  _ anyone _ his age to truly  _ get him _ like Sokka does? (Or Aang, or Katara, or Toph, or Suki, or hell, even Mai or Ty Lee?) They haven’t been through the hardships that he has. They haven’t seen the things that he has seen. Zuko returned to the Fire Nation capital a changed person, and it wasn’t simply because he  _ switched sides _ or rebelled against his father. It was because of everything that he went through in his years as a banished, disgraced prince. How could some privileged son or daughter of a noble even begin to understand him on even a base level?

Zuko looks up at Sokka to present these questions to him, in hopes that he might understand, but as he does, the words fall short. He has never had a problem voicing his thoughts or his concerns, his worries or his fears to Sokka, but in this moment, he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know if he should say it. 

_ Sokka gets him. _ That, among many other reasons, is exactly why Zuko is so drawn to him. How could anyone else truly understand him like Sokka does? There’s no way they’d live up to that.

And  _ fuck. _ How is Zuko supposed to explain _ that? _

In the end, he doesn’t. His mouth opens, then closes as he attempts to find the right words to say, and when he can’t, he settles. 

“I think a romantic relationship is the  _ last _ thing I should be worrying about right now,” he finally explains, and if Sokka has any inkling that he’s holding back, that he’s not telling him everything, he doesn’t say so.

Instead, he just offers Zuko a soft, understanding smile and says, “Well, when you’re ready, let me know. I make a great wingman.”

And Zuko isn’t sure who he wants to smack more: Sokka or himself. 

* * *

They’re sitting on that very beach, just a couple of hours later, when a fast-moving, bison-shaped cloud eventually appears on the horizon, signalling Aang’s return to pick them up. At just the sight of it, Zuko’s chest fills with dread and anxiety and unanswered questions and all of the stress that comes along with being the  _ Fire Lord. _ And just like that, Zuko’s little slice of paradise, the vacation that he didn’t know that he needed, is over. 

“You know, I had a lot of fun these past few days,” Sokka remarks as they pack their things, doing one final sweep of the house before meeting Aang and Appa outside. 

Zuko, hunched over a rucksack containing his clothes glances up at the other man, who isn’t looking his way. He takes the opportunity to stare, committing this quiet moment to memory, knowing that he won’t get anything like this again any time soon. 

“Yeah,” he breathes at last, “I did too.”

It’s only then that Sokka  _ does _ look up at him, shooting him a warm smile. “See, there’s a reason why I’m the plan guy,” he jokes, which earns a fond eye-roll from Zuko. 

“Agreeing will only give you an ego,” Zuko shoots back, “But…  _ yeah. _ You’re right.”

“Always am!” Sokka retorts with a wild grin. He throws his bag over his shoulder. “Now come on, we don’t want to keep Aang waiting. I can’t wait to hear what happened.”

Zuko, unable to immediately hide his anxiety and stress and disappointment, just sighs in response.  _ “Yeah.” _

And maybe it’s a product of three days stuck together or three years of friendship, or maybe Zuko just wears his emotions on his sleeve, but Sokka’s eyebrows immediately furrow in concern, his lips turning down into a frown.  _ “Hey…” _ he says softly, taking a step towards him, an arm outstretched, “You good?”

Zuko realizes himself and quickly puts a brave face back on. He straightens his posture, schools his face, takes a deep breath and nods. “Yeah.  _ Yeah, _ I’m okay, I just -”

“You’re nervous about going back…” Sokka infers.

There’s really no point in denying it. Sokka will know if he’s lying, and it would only make the trip home feel awkward. He’s not an idiot.

“It’s not so much  _ going back,” _ Zuko admits, “I just… part of me feels like I took the easy way out, letting everyone else fight my battles for me. I know it doesn’t matter what they think, but it just proves everyone right. I feel weak.”

_ “Shit,  _ man,” Sokka mutters. He reaches out, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, “I’ll tell you this as many times as you need to hear it -  _ you’re not weak. _ This was the right call, and  _ you needed a vacation. _ It doesn’t mean that you’re not a capable Fire Lord if you know when to ask for help.”

Zuko opens his mouth to remind Sokka that he  _ didn’t _ ask for help - that Suki asked on his behalf - but there’s no point in making that argument. It doesn’t matter, and the truth is, he  _ did _ need this. 

Instead, he just takes a deep breath, and on the exhale says, “I hope things went well.”

At that, Sokka moves, slinging his arm casually around Zuko’s shoulders. “Judging by Aang’s chipper attitude, I’m sure things went fine. Come on - I’m sure he’ll fill us in on the ride back.”

Zuko huffs out a laugh, but he doesn’t pull away from Sokka’s touch. It’s selfish, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Aang  _ always _ has a chipper attitude,” he retorts, “I’m not entirely convinced that he didn’t try to make small talk while facing my father.”

In response, Sokka barks out a surprised laugh, insisting,  _ “Please tell him that.” _

And as they walk down the stairs and out of the house together, Sokka’s arm still wrapped tightly around his shoulders, Zuko can’t help but feel like he’s leaving something really important behind. Something special happened here, and he’s not entirely convinced that it was  _ all _ the magic of Ember Island’s doing.

* * *

As it turns out, the plan worked  _ perfectly. _

As Aang explains on the trip back to the capital, the Ozai loyalists fell right into their trap. Word got back to the resistance group that the Fire Lord was sick and confined to his bed, and it only took a couple of days for them to throw together a hasty assassination attempt, which was quickly thwarted by Suki and Katara, who had been waiting inside of Zuko’s chambers, while Aang provided support outside and even managed to capture the guard who had been feeding them information. All together, they apprehended nearly a dozen would-be assailants, and after just a few hours of interrogation, they got them to talk. By the time Sokka and Zuko are on their way back to the capital with Aang, another ten Ozai supporters have been arrested for conspiring to assassinate the Fire Lord. 

The mission is successful, and by the time that they land in Cadera City, Zuko has convinced himself that it’s  _ okay _ that he wasn’t there to see it through. The plan worked  _ because _ they removed him from the equation, and even he’s humble enough to admit that. 

Sokka, on the other hand, not so much. 

“Aww man, now I’m just bummed that I missed out on the action!” he says with a groan only a few hours after they return to the palace. That evening, he, Zuko, Katara, Aang and Suki sit together in the council room, discussing the events over the past three days and plans to deal with the New Ozai Society moving forward. 

Katara just scoffs at her brother.  _ “You _ got to go on a fun little vacation with Zuko while  _ we _ did all of the hard work. Don’t even start.”

“I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful I am -” Zuko starts at that, but Katara just waves him off. 

“That’s what friends  _ do _ , Zuko,” she insists, “It was actually pretty therapeutic to kick some firebender ass in the palace. I’ve been dreaming of this for ages.”

Three years ago, Katara’s comment would have alarmed him. Now, it just earns a chuckle from Zuko. “Well, thank you,” he replies, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Katara offers him a smile. “Hopefully  _ you _ got some much needed rest and relaxation, too,” she comments, “Did you guys do anything fun?”

At that, Zuko glances in Sokka’s direction, his eyes going wide for just a split second. Of course, they  _ did _ have plenty of fun, but the  _ only  _ thing that comes to Zuko’s mind is their moment on the beach the evening prior, which seems so long ago but was literally less than twenty-four hours ago. 

Sokka, much more level-headed and calm under pressure - at least,  _ this _ kind of pressure - than him, doesn’t even hesitate before flashing Zuko a smile and taking over the conversation. 

_ “Well,” _ he says, leaning forward on the table, “I  _ did _ manage to drag Zuko to another Ember Island Players production -”

“Oh  _ spirits,  _ Sokka,” Katara groans. 

“And it was  _ great!” _ he continues, “And we watched some fireworks, ate a ton of delicious food, drank some Fire Whiskey…  _ oh! _ Katara! We met this amazing woman named Sira - you wouldn’t believe…”

As Sokka launches into a fully detailed story of their vacation, Zuko can’t help the way that he just smiles and listens intently, as if he didn’t live the past three days himself. He can’t help but enjoy Sokka’s enthusiastic account of their adventures, even the parts that he embellishes or even fully makes up. It’s one of the many things that he loves about the man, and -

_ Oh. _

Zuko sucks in a deep breath as the realization hits him hard. 

Right. 

* * *

The next few days go by in a blur. After returning to the palace, and subsequently, returning to work, Zuko is  _ busy. _ As it turns out, the Avatar and his team capturing nearly two dozen Ozai loyalists is not only newsworthy, but it results in several long meetings about what to do with the traitors, how to handle situations like this in the future, how Zuko wants to handle the situation  _ now _ and of course, damage control. The meetings are dreadful and stretch on for hours and Zuko’s advisors are even more high-strung than usual, especially considering the fact that Zuko didn’t  _ inform them _ of his plan ahead of time. Couple that with the shock of going from a much needed vacation to jumping headfirst into a political debacle, and Zuko is  _ exhausted _ by the time the week comes to an end. 

Even though his friends are still in Caldera City and actively helping him clean up the mess and decide what to do with the prisoners, he doesn’t see Aang, Katara or Sokka as much as he’d like. Suki, however, is almost always around, even more than before, it seems. 

Even still, they don’t get much time alone without an advisor or diplomat talking Zuko’s ear off while Suki trails closely behind; a dangerous, watchful shadow. It isn’t until the week comes to an end that Zuko  _ finally  _ has a moment alone with her, and the first thing he does is apologize. 

“I should have thanked you much sooner,” he tells Suki, standing in the doorway to his chambers one evening, exhausted and drained and dreading the days to come. He turns to bid her goodnight and suddenly, feels a pang of guilt when he meets her soft gaze. (Whether the guilt is because of how he had initially reacted to finding out that she contacted their friends without telling him, or because of the moment that he shared with Sokka that he has been desperately trying to push from his memory, he can’t be sure. He’s too tired to determine  _ that. _ )

Suki regards him quietly for a moment before she sighs and fixes him with a gentle smile. “Zuko, I didn’t do this because I was looking for a  _ thank you,” _ she insists, “I did it because I’m your friend and I was worried about you.”

It’s reminiscent of a conversation that they once had, sitting together in the courtyard, just after she and a handful of the Kyoshi Warriors began operating as the Fire Lord’s personal guards. Zuko should be used to people  _ caring _ how she does - how  _ Sokka _ and Katara and Aang and Toph do - by now, but in times like this, it still shocks him to his core. How did he get so lucky to end up with a group of close friends and allies like this? 

“I know,” he breathes at last, “But my point stands. Thank you, Suki.”

“You’re welcome,  _ Fire Lord,” _ Suki retorts, a playful smile spreading across her face. “Now get some sleep. You look terrible.”

* * *

Two days later, Aang receives a letter from the Earth Kingdom, requesting his presence in Ba Sing Se. For a brief, naive moment, Zuko lets himself hope that  _ maybe, _ Katara and Sokka will stay behind, if nothing more than to provide him with a much needed distraction when the meetings become too much or he needs a little break from his  _ Fire Lord duties, _ but it comes as no surprise when they begin to prepare to leave, as well. They’re the original  _ Team Avatar,  _ after all. It only makes sense that they stay together, even now. 

And Zuko  _ absolutely  _ is not moping. No. He just… needs some time to himself. Ever since returning from Ember Island, he has been going and _ going, _ with barely any downtime, so when he finds himself sitting out at the edge of the turtleduck pond the evening before Aang and his friends are set to depart, it’s because he just needs some peace and quiet.  _ Not _ because he’s upset that his friends are leaving. Certainly not because he’s moping. 

_ “Dude, _ you’re totally moping.”

A voice rings out behind him in the courtyard, recognizable and teasing enough that Zuko knows it’s Sokka before the Water Tribesman appears in his peripheral. 

_ “Am not,” _ Zuko shoots back in the least  _ Fire Lord _ tone of voice ever. It’s comical, really, him sitting here in his full Fire Lord robes, nearly pouting like a child at Sokka’s teasing. “I’m just -”

_ “Moping?” _ Sokka supplies with a smirk. Unceremoniously, he flops into the grass at Zuko’s side, lying on his back to face the dying blue and purple and pink sky above them. “Sorry for intruding, your royal  _ grumpiness,” _ he continues before Zuko can open his mouth to argue with his assertion, “Suki told me you’d probably be out here, and I wanted… well, before tomorrow.”

Sokka doesn’t fully explain himself, but Zuko doesn’t ask him to. To be fair, he even considered searching out the other man to offer him a proper goodbye before he departed in the morning. Of course, Zuko plans to be there to see them off, but, well… it didn’t feel right to say goodbye to Sokka along with the others. Maybe that’s just the crush talking, though. 

“You’re not intruding,” Zuko settles on saying in response, choosing to focus on the first part of Sokka’s statement. “I just came out here to clear my head. I haven’t had much time to relax lately, with everything…”

Sokka huffs out a chuckle. “Yeah,” he mutters, “Crazy couple of weeks,  _ huh?” _

Part of Zuko wants to ask if he means just the assaination attempt and the capture of the Ozai loyalists, or if he’s referencing their time on Ember Island, as well. He doesn’t, though. Instead, he just nods his head and mutters out a quiet.  _ “Yeah.” _

It grows quiet between them, and for a moment, the only sounds that can be heard throughout the courtyard is the chirping of birds off in the distance and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Zuko wants to turn to look at Sokka, to commit the sight of him, painted in the warm hues of sunset to memory, but he doesn’t trust himself to look. It’s not that things have been strained or awkward between them since returning from their impromptu vacation - Sokka made good on his word not to let a kiss ruin their friendship - but Zuko would be lying if he said that his feelings for Sokka hadn’t been on the forefront of his mind lately. 

Of course, he won’t act on it. He won’t admit it out loud. He’d never do that to Sokka  _ or _ Suki. But that means that he just has to  _ live with it. _

Moments like this are still difficult. He only hopes that time and distance will make it easier. 

Seemingly reading his thoughts, Sokka exhales a soft sigh next to him, murmuring, “I’m gonna miss this.”

Zuko raises an eyebrow, finally glancing down at where Sokka lays in the grass next to him. “What?” he asks, “Watching me  _ mope?” _

Sokka snorts out a laugh, and Zuko half expects him to say something along the lines of,  _ “Ah-hah! So you admit it!” _ but he doesn’t. Instead, after just a beat of silence, he says, “No. Spending time with you.”

_ Oh. _

Before Zuko can form a coherent thought or the right response, Sokka continues. 

“It doesn’t feel right, the team splitting up again, you know?”

Oh.

Zuko swallows. “Yeah. I… I’ve enjoyed having you guys around.”

Sokka offers him a gentle smile. “Love you too, buddy.”

Then, just like that, he’s quickly sitting up, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “You just reminded me!” he exclaims, reaching to his side to grab for a satchel that he must have discarded in the grass before laying down. Zuko completely missed it, before. “I have something to give you.”

Zuko’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. “Oh?”

Before he knows what is happening, Sokka is reaching into his bag and pulling out a surprisingly large object. Just a bit larger than his hands, it remains obscured for a moment before Sokka flips it over and wordlessly presents it to Zuko. 

Accented beautifully by the dying golden sunlight, the wooden mask is the  _ last _ thing that Zuko expected Sokka to pull from his bag, but that doesn’t stop him from reaching for it. Its design is unmistakable - he’d know the Blue Spirit mask anywhere - but unlike his old mask, which was rather simple, painted just blue and white, it’s clear that  _ this one _ was made for decorative purposes. Blues and reds, golds and silvers swirl together on the mask face to create an elegant, beautiful pattern that rides the line between Fire Nation and Water Tribe. 

Immediately, Zuko knows where the mask came from. 

“Is this -”

“From Sira’s shop?” Sokka asks, a smile dancing across his features. “Yeah. While you were getting us something to eat, I stopped back by and bought it. It reminded me of - well…”

He doesn’t need to say it. Although Zuko has never fully confirmed Sokka’s suspicions, he knows that Sokka is aware of his past use of the mask. He was quick to put the pieces together. He’s a smart guy, after all.

_ “Thank you, _ Sokka,” Zuko manages to choke out after just a moment of silence, glancing up at the other man’s smiling face. “It’s beautiful, really.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Sokka repliese softly, “I uh - I thought it might be nice to have a piece of the South Pole here, when we’re not -” he clears his throat, “Or, you know, if you ever want to dish out some vigilante justice -”

Before Sokka can finish, before Zuko even knows what he’s doing, he’s lurching forward, pulling Sokka in for a tight hug. Sokka is quick to return the gesture, his arms wrapping around Zuko’s middle. 

“I love it,” Zuko murmurs against him, “Thank you.”

It’s a funny thing, really, the mask coming back to him now, after so long. He gave up that part of his life years ago, in Ba Sing Se, but this… this feels different. A new chapter. A new beginning. It’s more symbolic that Sokka can even begin to understand. 

When they eventually part, Sokka shoots Zuko a teasing smile. 

“I’m just glad that it got you to smile,” he mutters, “I don’t know how much longer I could stand to watch you mope out here.”

And in response, Zuko just roughly shoves his shoulder.

Their laughter rings throughout the courtyard. 

* * *

In the soft light of the following morning, Zuko meets Aang, Katara and Sokka in front of the palace as they finish loading their things onto Appa’s saddle. It’s bittersweet, but he knew when they arrived that they’d eventually have to leave again. He’d be naive to believe that they’d stay in the city after their mission was complete. The Avatar is needed elsewhere, obviously. 

However, that doesn’t mean he can’t feel disappointed at their departure. 

“We’ll see each other again soon,” Aang promises as he hugs Zuko goodbye, his face pressed into Zuko’s robes. 

“Thank you,” Zuko murmurs in response, “For being here when I needed you. Even if… you know, I didn’t realize that I did.”

Aang’s laugh will never get old, and it brings a smile to Zuko’s face when they part. “Of course,” he replies, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, “That’s what friends are for.”

_ Friends. _ Four years ago, Zuko never would have guessed that he’d have friends like these. He wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“I swear, if you don’t write the next time you need help, the  _ last _ thing you’ll have to worry about are assassins,” Katara tells him sternly, holding him at arm’s length after she hugs him. “Understood?”

Zuko wants to make a joke about the irony of her making a threat on the Fire Lord’s life, but he can’t bring himself to do so. Instead, he just offers her a guilty smile and a soft, “Understood.”

And then, there’s Sokka. 

Technically, they said goodbye the night prior, but  _ this _ is different. Seeing him off,  _ knowing _ that they won’t see each other for months, maybe even  _ years, _ feels more  _ final. _

Sokka offers him a gentle, knowing smile, but Zuko doesn’t immediately approach him for a long, bone-crushing hug. Instead, wordlessly, he undoes the leather scabbard at his waist and, before Sokka can catch on to what he’s doing, he’s thrusting it towards him. 

Zuko had originally planned on giving Sokka the dagger while they were on Ember Island, but the moment never felt right, then the kiss happened, and he had nearly forgotten about it entirely. Since then, it has been sitting in his chambers, a painful reminder of their weekend together on the island and something that Zuko could never have. After last night, though - after Sokka presented him with the mask - Zuko knew that he couldn’t just let it sit there and collect dust. If Sokka was going to give him some sentimental gift to remember him by, then Zuko will be damned if he doesn’t do the same. 

The inscription on the side of the blade practically screams at him to give it to Sokka and confess his feelings, but as he presses the scabbard into the other man’s hands, he can’t utter a word. He just watches breathlessly as Sokka pulls the whalebone dagger free, his eyes going wide at the sight of it before they find Zuko’s gaze. 

“Zuko,” he breathes, “Is this -”

“It seems that we both had the same idea,” Zuko replies with a nervous chuckle. 

And Sokka -

He doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he takes one quick step forward before wordlessly wrapping Zuko in a tight embrace. 

Zuko feels himself deflate in response, his own arms coming to wrap around Sokka in a direct reflection of the hug they shared the night before. “I just wanted to give you something to say thanks,” he explains quietly as they embrace, afraid to pull away too much, afraid to end it too soon. “For… you know. Being my friend. And everything.”

Sokka snorts out a laugh against him.  _ “And everything,”  _ he repeats, “Yeah. Anytime, Zuko. Shit.”

“So do you -”

“If you’re about to ask if I like it, I’m going to feel really concerned about leaving you to run an entire nation,” Sokka retorts, which earns a laugh from Zuko in response. 

When they eventually part a few moments later, they’re  _ both _ laughing, breathless, teary-eyed messes. It seems that the others have given them their space, as Katara and Aang are busy securing their belongings in the saddle while even Suki seems to have turned her attention to Appa, and Zuko is silently grateful for it. For just a moment, it allows him to have  _ this _ with Sokka. 

Sokka, who holds him at arm’s length, much like his sister had a few minutes prior as he murmurs, “Take care of yourself, Zuko.”

Zuko swallows. “I will.”

“I’ll write,” Sokka assures, “And we’ll be back before you know it. Promise.”

He knows that it’s a promise that Sokka can’t keep, but he appreciates the sentiment. So in return, he promises, “I’ll see you soon.”

Then, after another brief embrace, he’s gone. 


	7. Chapter 7 - I Feel Something When I See You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yooooo it's ya girl here with some more emotional heart-to-hearts. 
> 
> A couple of things to note about this chapter:
> 
> 1\. This one is supposed to capture the passing of time, starting almost immediately after the last chapter leaves off and taking place throughout the course of the next four years. By the time it comes to an end, Zuko and Sokka are around 23 years old. 
> 
> 2\. This chapter and the next one were originally going to be just one long chapter, but by the time it hit around 12,000 words, I decided it was getting a little too long and broke them up. So if this one feels kind of like a filler/feels like it ends a little abruptly, just know that the next chapter is coming very soon and picks up where this leaves off! 
> 
> AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST...
> 
> I mentioned a while back that I was trying to put together a playlist of songs for this fic - [HERE IT IS!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1uW2T1F3IvNL0OGiINcJ5x?si=FBTegoVzTgyaKMBh9rhfTA) It's a work in progress, so I'll probably add more songs eventually, as well!
> 
> Thanks as always for reading!

_I've been playing dead  
My whole life  
And I get this feeling whenever I feel good  
It'll be the last time _

_But I feel something when I see you now  
I feel something when I see you _

\- "[ICU](https://open.spotify.com/track/38KCyQcBswyAd7xSQnDIU4?si=GGoKY1dLTiy4cP-RgQDyyg)" - Phoebe Bridgers

* * *

Sokka keeps his promise. The first letter arrives only two weeks after he, Katara and Aang depart for Ba Sing Se, and Zuko can’t help but smile to himself as he reads through it. 

_Zuko,_

_I told you I’d write! I bet you weren’t expecting to receive a letter so soon, but I’ll be honest, it definitely feels strange going on “Team Avatar” missions without you, Toph and Suki around._

_We arrived in Ba Sing Se just a few days ago. It seems that King Kuei would like Aang’s assistance in vetting a new palace guard. Ya know… since the Dai Li turned out to be crazy psychopaths who ended up working with your sister. (No offense.) It’s kind of wild that a king wants a kid’s perspective on hiring his personal guards. Too bad there aren’t two Suki’s… she’d be perfect for the job._

_Anyway, I hope you’re doing well. If you get bored, you can always take that new mask of yours for a test run. I’m sure the people of Caldera City would be surprised to find that the Blue Spirit lives among them…_

_Talk soon,_

_Sokka_

It’s easy to read the letter in Sokka’s voice, to imagine him sitting at a table in his guest room at the Earth Kingdom palace, writing out the letter while Katara and Aang conversed around him. His easygoing, teasing nature is clear, even in his written word, and it’s embarrassing, but Zuko can’t help but cherish the letter. 

And the countless others that come after it. 

Over the course of the next few weeks, into the following months, Sokka continues to write whenever he has the chance. His letters are filled with snarky humor and, unbeknownst to his sister and Aang, slight digs at them, as well as little snippets of near poetic passages when he describes the sight of Ba Sing Se at sunset or the mountain ranges of the Earth Kingdom in full bloom. Each letter from Sokka has Zuko hanging onto every word, and as he tucks the parchment into the chest at the foot of his bed before starting on a less eloquent response of his own, he wonders if this is how Suki feels when Sokka writes to her. Does he write her poetry? Does he wax on about her beauty, how he wishes that they could spend autumn in Omashu together?

Zuko is quick to shake thoughts like _those_ from his head. He won’t lie and say that he’s not jealous of what Sokka and Suki have, but he loves Suki, too. He’d never try to take that from her or wish ill upon their relationship. Instead, Zuko buries those feelings just like he buries Sokka’s letters under important documents and focuses on writing coherent, well-worded letters to his _friend._ His _best_ friend. Because over the coming weeks and months, Zuko comes to realize that that’s what Sokka _is_ to him. He’s his best friend, and if that’s all he can ever have, he’ll still feel grateful. 

When he was a child, Zuko didn’t have the opportunity to entertain the prospect of _friends,_ let alone best friends. Then, just when he reached the age that most children begin developing a social circle, his mother was taken from him. Then, his dignity and honor and pride were taken from him as well. And up until the age of sixteen, Zuko didn’t know what it was like to _have friends._ Not until the Avatar came barreling into his life and refused to leave. 

Now, Zuko has a large circle of close friends, all of which he loves like the family he never had but always deserved. He and Aang will always have a spiritual bond that promises to transcend lifetimes, while Katara is like the little sister tha Azula never was - still competitive and assertive and _incredibly powerful,_ but also caring and motherly and above all, _kind._ Toph, who also comes from a noble family and understands the pressure of living up to their expectations of her while trying to _find herself,_ gets him on a level that the others can’t. They don’t have sappy heart to hearts like he and Sokka, or even he and Suki do, but he knows that he and the small yet intimidating earthbender have a bond that he never expected. 

Then, there’s Suki and Sokka. Suki, who by all rights shouldn’t even _be_ his friend. Graceful, forgiving, passionate and _fearsome_ Suki, who Zuko never thought he’d trust with his life, but each and every day he puts his fate in her hands without thinking twice about it. Although she isn’t a powerful bender like the others, Suki is one of the strongest people that Zuko knows, both physically and emotionally, and he wouldn’t rather have anyone else in his corner. Over the past three years, he and Suki have grown impossibly closer, and he wouldn’t rather have it any other way. 

And Sokka. Sokka, who was one of the first of the group other than Aang to accept Zuko. Sokka, who actually trusted him enough to bring him to the highest security prison in the Fire Nation and get them out alive, who defended Zuko against his own sister when she still didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. Sokka, who has always been there for Zuko when he needed a shoulder to lean on, whether it was when they were healing together after Sozin’s Comet or a year later when Zuko was struggling to repeal his great grandfather’s hateful and oppressive laws, or when Zuko went on a suicide mission to find his mother or -

Or just recently, when Zuko needed a vacation to clear his mind and someone to talk to about his own struggles with self-hatred.

Without a doubt, Sokka is his best friend, and Zuko is eternally grateful to have someone like him in his life. So Zuko can’t help the childlike glee he feels whenever he receives another letter from Sokka or when, six months later, Zuko arrives in the Earth Kingdom for a peace summit to find Sokka sitting alongside Aang, Katara and Toph in King Kuei’s throne room. 

“How have you been?” Sokka asks with genuine curiosity when they embrace later, casual compared to the formal meeting that they both just attended. His words are loaded, telling Zuko that he doesn’t just want a flippant response like _“fine”_ or _“good, you?”_ despite the fact that they’ve been writing to each other regularly and _Sokka knows how he is._

“I’ve been… _good._ Really good, _”_ Zuko answers, and for the first time in a long time, it’s not a lie. Following the events of the Avatar’s last visit in the Fire Nation - the visit that forced Zuko to look his feelings for his best friend directly in the face and ended with the arrest of over a dozen Ozai loyalists - things have been _busy_ in the Fire Nation. Busy, but good. Although Zuko is sure that there are still plenty more people who don’t have faith in him, who would prefer his father on the throne in his stead, things have been _peaceful_ since then. Not only that, but his own advisors seem to trust him a little bit more, seeing him as more of a leader rather than a teenager in a position of power that he did nothing to deserve. 

Sokka pulls back, looking him in the eye, as if searching his face for a sign of hesitation or uncertainty, but when he apparently doesn’t find it, his own face splits into a wide grin. “That’s good to hear,” he replies easily, “Come on - let’s go grab a bite to eat. I’m sure we all have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Sounds great,” Zuko replies, falling into step with Sokka as they follow Katara, Aang and Toph out of the throne room. Just as they reach the massive double doors, Zuko can’t help the smile that falls onto his own face. “I hope you don’t mind - I invited someone else along…”

And he tells himself that it’s _joy_ (not jealousy or regret) that he feels when Sokka spies his girlfriend standing guard outside the doors, excitedly squealing, _“Suki!”_

Friendship used to be a foreign thing to Zuko, something reserved for children who didn’t have to struggle and fight and claw their way to success, something that he didn’t _need_ because he was the crowned prince of the Fire Nation who didn’t have the _time_ for friends. But flash forward a few years, plenty of mistakes and countless life changing events, and Zuko knows now that he’d be nowhere without his close circle of friends. 

So sure, it isn’t really _becoming_ of the young Fire Lord, at just shy of twenty-one years old, to nearly sprint across the council room when Aang and Katara pay him an unexpected visit one afternoon, nor is it necessarily professional to use royal messenger hawks to send letters to Sokka when it _isn’t_ official Fire Nation businesses, but he’s making up for lost time, for a childhood filled with grief and anguish and a lack of _friendship._

Despite their distance over the next few years, Zuko’s relationship with not only Sokka, but the rest of his friends, still continues to flourish and evolve. In between letters, there are occasional visits when time and politics and weather permit, and although Zuko would love to see his friends more often, especially when the stress of running an entire nation in his early twenties becomes too much, he takes what he can get. 

And over the years, things change, too. They all grow up a little bit, but thankfully, despite the distance, they don’t grow apart. Two years after the most recent assassination attempt, many things change within the Fire Nation capital, and when two years pass with no more attempts on Zuko’s life, he insists that the Kyoshi Warriors go where they are needed most. On a quiet spring morning, he bids Suki a heartfelt and emotional farewell, promising that he’ll stay safe and write if he needs anything at all. (Who would have known that, five years after he attempted to burn down her village, he and Suki would become close friends? Certainly not Zuko.)

Sokka continues to write regularly, and it’s through his letters that Zuko learns of the bustling, diverse new city of Cranefish Town (Sokka _hates_ the name and vows to come up with a better one in the near future), the rebuilding of the Southern Water Tribe, and even the success of Toph’s Metalbending Academy. Some of Sokka’s letters lean on the more _official_ side of things, informing Zuko of his travels with Katara and Aang, while the others are a little more… well, _Sokka._ _Those_ letters always start with a more casual, _“Hey buddy,”_ or _“Dearest Lord Jerkbender,”_ or don’t even begin with an introduction at all, like one of the more recent letters that just begins with, _“I think Aang wants to propose to Katara and it’s giving me the oogies, please send help.”_

And while distance does quite a bit to dull Zuko’s affection for the other man - after all, it’s a whole lot easier to ignore his feelings for Sokka when he can’t see the way his blue eyes twinkle when he’s up to no good, or feel the weight of his arm thrown casually around his shoulders - he still keeps all of the letters, storing them safely in the chest at the foot of his bed, reading over his favorites whenever he feels particularly lonely in the large palace. (Those _favorite_ letters include the very first time that Sokka told him of Cranefish Town and how the city’s diversity gave him hope for the future, or a recent, short letter that had the other man admitting that he missed his time in the Fire Nation and more specifically, Ember Island. Zuko reads that one so much he has it memorized.)

As the years go by, the visits between letters become more and more spaced out, as well. It only makes sense, really. As time goes on, they all begin building their lives, settling down and finding their own place in the world. Seven years after the end of the war, at just nineteen years old, Aang finds his _place,_ so to speak, on a small island nestled in the bay of the newly renamed _Republic City_ (Sokka’s name, of course) where he decides to begin building a sanctuary for Air Accolades and hopefully, future airbenders. Sokka, on the other hand, is a little more difficult to pin down, and according to his letters, spends his time traveling between the South Pole, Kyoshi Island and Republic City, lending his knowledge, wisdom and “superior city naming abilities” (his words, not Zuko’s) to anyone who might need them. 

On special occasions and during official trips to Ba Sing Se (or the South Pole, or the North Pole, or wherever he is needed) Zuko has the privilege of seeing his friends, though. And while letters are great, nothing beats a warm hug from Aang after nine months apart, or a punch from Toph, who bites “That’s for not coming to see me more often” after nearly a year, or -

_Or_ the sight of a twenty-three year-old Sokka stepping off of an airship with Suki on his arm as they arrive in the Fire Nation just before sunset, a few days before the city’s annual Summer Solstice Festival. It has been just over six months since he last saw Sokka and over a year since the last time he saw Suki, and Zuko can’t stop himself from striding forward to embrace both of them in a way that he’s sure his advisors would _hate_. 

“I’ve missed you both so much,” Zuko hears himself saying before he can stop himself as he hugs Sokka, then Suki, holding them both at arms length afterwards to take the sight of them in. Five years ago, he probably would have been embarrassed at the way he so readily embraces them, wearing his heart on his sleeve, but frankly, the only thing more important to him than the safety, security and happiness of his nation is the wellbeing of his close circle of friends. So Zuko doesn’t feel any embarrassment or shame as he takes in the sight of Suki, still sporting the same cropped, chin-length haircut that she’s had since she was sixteen, but who manages to look so much more _grown up_ than she did back then. And then there’s _Sokka,_ with his arm around her waist, and the sight of him now, filled out with defined muscles and a few more piercings littering his ears - _and_ _is that a tattoo around his right bicep? -_ has Zuko stumbling through his words, his breath catching in his throat and -

_Fuck,_ he thought he was past this, but apparently even space and time can’t erase his attraction towards the other man.

Still, he tries his best to bury it, if not for his own sake, then for Sokka and Suki, who have been happily dating since they were just teenagers, and are well on their way to starting a life together. Over the course of the following few days, before the rest of their friends arrive for the Solstice Festival, Zuko vows to bury his feelings towards Sokka, while he accompanies him and Suki throughout the capital, taking them out to nice dinners and playing the part of a good host. 

“You know,” Suki muses at dinner that first night, sitting across from Zuko in a small ramen joint in the heart of the city, while two of his plainclothes guards stand watch out front, “I’m not gonna lie, it feels really nice to _relax_ in Caldera City, instead of working…”

Zuko offers her a small smile in response, “A lot has changed since the last time you were here.”

“I can tell,” Suki replies. Zuko tries not to notice the way that her hand falls over Sokka’s on the table, her fingers mindlessly brushing gently over his knuckles, “A few years ago, you never would have been caught dead out like this.”

“Well, it’s all thanks to you,” Zuko replies with a shrug, to which Suki immediately backtracks -

_“Oh no,_ don’t you dare try to give me all the credit,” she insists, a hand coming up, _“You’ve_ built this, Zuko. Not me.”

Zuko hums thoughtfully in response, but politely disagrees. “If it weren’t for you, who knows where I’d be right now.” He then leans in a little bit, his eyes shifting over the room before he adds in a quieter voice, “I don’t think any of my current guards have the guts to directly defy me by summoning the Avatar to the palace without my knowledge. It’s been pretty boring since you left.”

And _that_ earns a loud laugh from both Suki _and_ Sokka. 

Later that night, long after Suki and Sokka have retired to their guest bedroom in the palace, Zuko’s mind drifts to the events of the past few years. Suki wasn’t wrong when she said that much had changed in the capital since her departure. In the few short years since the Kyoshi Warriors left the Fire Nation, things have been… well, they’ve been _good._ Thanks to Suki and the rest of Zuko’s friends, there haven’t been any more attempts on his life, and rather than constantly looking over his own shoulder, Zuko has had the time to actually make some positive _change_ in the Fire Nation. 

As he lays awake in bed that night, Zuko finds himself reflecting on the past few years, on how much he has grown as a leader and how considerably the Fire Nation has grown as a whole. Although they still have a long way to go, it’s a start, and even the upcoming Summer Solstice Festival is proof of that. Ten years ago, something like it would have never taken place in the capital, nor would it include the diverse array of performers and food vendors that Zuko brought on board. Looking back on it, he was inspired by a festival he attended years ago on Ember Island alongside a specific Water Tribe warrior. 

As Zuko’s thoughts begin to drift towards said Water Tribe warrior, he already knows that he’s in for a restless night and, after less than an hour of trying and failing to sleep, he makes his way out of his chambers and quietly through the dark palace halls, toward the open courtyard. 

Two guards still trail behind Zuko at all times, but nowadays, they keep their distance, giving him his privacy and a semblance of freedom, especially on nights like this, when all he needs is a quiet walk to clear his mind. As Zuko strolls out into the open courtyard, illuminated by the flicker of torchlights in the distance and the glow of the nearly full moon, he’s surprised to find that he isn’t as alone as he expected to be.

There, sitting in front of one of the garden’s many ponds, is a lone silhouette that Zuko immediately recognizes as Sokka. Sokka, who notices him almost immediately as he approaches from the side, and offers a warm smile once Zuko is close enough. 

“We _have_ to stop meeting like this,” Sokka jokes lightly, earning a smile from Zuko as he wordlessly takes a seat in the grass next to him. Belatedly, he realizes that maybe, he should have asked if it was alright to join Sokka, but it appears that the other man doesn’t mind. 

“What’s on your mind?” Sokka asks after a few moments of silence, his voice soft and gentle, inviting, even. 

_“You,”_ Zuko wants to respond, but doesn’t. Instead, he provides Sokka with a half-truth. “Nothing catastrophic,” he assures, “Just stressing over the plans for the Festival.”

Sokka hums in response, apparently buying it. To be fair, it isn’t necessarily a _lie_ \- Zuko still has plenty to oversee before the Solstice Festival takes place in a few days - it just so happens that the other man was on Zuko’s mind, as well. 

“Although I miss our heart-to-hearts, I’m glad to hear that the most stressful thing in your life right now is a _Summer Solstice Festival,”_ Sokka teases, a smile spreading across his face, and -

Zuko can’t help the way that his jaw drops, if only for just a second. So, Sokka has missed this as much as him? He doesn’t know what to do with that information. Instead, he catches himself and matches Sokka’s teasing energy, chuckling as he responds, “Who would have thought, huh?”

When another comfortable silence falls between them, though, Zuko can’t help but direct Sokka’s own question back at him, “So what brings _you_ out here?”

Sokka shifts his gaze, which had been trained on the still pool of water in front of them, to Zuko before letting out a deep breath. “It’s… nothing,” he answers, his tone loaded. Just as Zuko is about to argue that it doesn’t _seem_ like nothing, though, he elaborates, “I just needed to clear my head, and I remembered how much sitting out here with you used to help, so I figured I might as well give it a shot.”

Part of Zuko wants to ask if it was sitting outside in the gardens that helped, or maybe the sparring beforehand, or possibly _talking_ that did the trick, but he doesn’t push. Sokka has always been a little more reserved when it comes to heavy topics and his own emotions, and the last thing that Zuko wants to do is make him feel pressured to talk or uncomfortable. So instead of pressing the matter, he just hums in response, offering, “It’s peaceful out here.”

Sokka nods. “It really is.” 

And for a moment, that’s it. Another silence falls between them, and Zuko knows better than to break it. Just as Sokka knows when to push and when to give with him, Zuko knows when the other man needs patience and space. If Sokka’s anything like him - which Zuko _knows_ that he is, nearly eight years of friendship have taught him as much - then he just needs some time to sort through whatever is bothering him. It can’t be forced out. And _man,_ almost a decade later, and they still have some fucked-up trauma to work through, don’t they?

Eventually, Sokka is the one to break the silence, his voice quiet and small when he admits, “I don’t know if I want to go back to the South Pole.”

_Oh._ Zuko wasn’t expecting _that._ At first, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s not quite sure exactly what Sokka means, and he’s sure that he’ll elaborate if he lets him. So in response he just asks, “No?”

Sokka sighs, sitting up a little straighter. “I mean, of course I want to go back eventually - it’ll always be my _home,”_ he explains, “But permanently, and _right now…_ I don’t know…”

Zuko nods as if he understands. In some ways, he’s sure he does. He felt a similar way when returning to the Fire Nation after the war - out of place. “So what _do_ you want?” he asks gently. 

In return, Sokka huffs out a quiet, humorless laugh. “I - I don’t know,” he answers honestly, leaning back a little bit as he speaks. He doesn’t look at Zuko, instead choosing to keep his eyes trained on the water and the open sky ahead of them. “So much has changed since we first left… when I was just a kid who dreamt of following in my father’s footsteps. Don’t get me wrong - it would be an honor to become chief one day, to lead my people, but…”

Sokka shakes his head, continuing, “The world is so different, now. Bigger than I could have ever imagined back then. I don’t - I don’t know. I feel like I’d be betraying them in some way, if I didn’t stay, but at the same time…”

“You feel like you’re needed elsewhere,” Zuko infers, understanding exactly what Sokka is getting at. His tribe, while still recovering from nearly a hundred years of oppression and hardships, has a strong leader in Hakoda, the support of their sister tribe in the North, as well as the economic and financial support from the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom. It’s not that they don’t _need_ Sokka, but he understands what Sokka is feeling right now. He traveled the world for nearly a year and met people who could use his help more than his own home right now. 

_“Yeah,”_ Sokka replies with a sigh. “Sounds stupid when you say it out loud, huh?”

“Not at all,” Zuko insists. Before he can think about it, he’s leaning over to place a hand on Sokka’s shoulder. “And I mean no offense by this, but I think your goals have always been a little larger and more far reaching than the South Pole.”

Sokka snorts out a laugh. “I’ve always been an overachiever.”

“This new world needs overachievers,” Zuko retorts. 

_It needs someone like you._

Emboldened by their conversation, Sokka offers Zuko a smile and admits, quietly, “I’ve been thinking of joining Katara and Aang in Republic City…”

Something inside of Zuko yells at him to beg Sokka to stay - that if he doesn’t want to return to the South Pole, he can stay right here in the Fire Nation for as long as he likes - but he doesn’t voice it. It would be selfish. Instead, he nods and murmurs, “You’d be a good fit there.”

_“Or_ I could become your ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe!” Sokka exclaims suddenly, seemingly reading Zuko’s mind. The words pull at Zuko’s chest, begging him to just _give in,_ to say yes to something like this. That moment that they had on Ember Island was _so long ago_ and it’s high time that Zuko caves to something that he wants and -

And he’d kill for Sokka to stay, to be so close all the time, for moments like this to become part of their daily routine. But it’s not realistic. As great as it would be, Sokka _just_ finished explaining that he felt restricted back home. He’d just be swapping the South Pole for the Fire Nation, in the long run. Keeping him here would hold him back.

(That, and Zuko’s not sure how much of _Sokka_ he could take before he caves once more.)

So instead of agreeing, Zuko just shakes his head and mutters, “Your talents would be wasted on the Fire Nation.”

At his words, Sokka’s face positively _lights up._ For a moment, he looks like the easily excited sixteen year old that Zuko met eight years ago - not the grown man in front of him now. _“Wow,_ can I get that in writing?” Sokka teases, a grin splitting across his face as he speaks, “Do you really think that highly of me?”

And while Zuko knows that he’s teasing, he can’t help but insist, “I do.”

* * *

Sokka’s move to Republic City takes place almost immediately following his departure after the Summer Solstice Festival in Caldera City. He writes -  _ as he always does  _ \- to inform Zuko that he’ll be living with his sister and Aang temporarily until he can find a place of his own in the city, and Zuko is  _ happy _ for him. He really is.

That doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t daydream about what it might have been like if Sokka had decided to stay in the Fire Nation. What would have happened if Zuko had humored his suggestion and made him an offer to serve as an ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe? Would he have taken it? Would Suki have moved back into the palace as well? Selfishly, as he lays awake at night, Zuko wishes that he would have asked. If nothing else, he’d kill to have friends around more often. 

Only three months and a handful of letters pass before Zuko sees Sokka and the rest of his friends once more. This time, Aang writes to him, inviting him to sit in on an official meeting regarding the development of Republic City as a representative for the Fire Nation, and Zuko would be stupid not to accept. (His advisors suggest sending someone in his stead, but at this point, they only argue with Zuko for just a few minutes before deciding that it’s futile and letting the Fire Lord do as he pleases. And  _ yeah, _ maybe he does take advantage of his place in power sometimes, but he’ll be damned if he misses an opportunity to get out of the palace and see his friends.)

The first thing that he notices upon arriving in Republic City just a few short weeks later is how much it has grown since the last time he visited, just a little over a year ago. Long gone is the small, quaint fishing town and in its place is a bustling metropolis on the rise. Tall, beautifully crafted structures, more elegant and modern than even some of the buildings within the inner ring of Ba Sing Se, line the city streets alongside busy market stalls and food carts. By the time that Zuko arrives at the city hall with his palace guard and a scribe in tow, he almost feels as if he’s visiting a new city for the first time. It’s strange how much can change in just one year.

Even stranger still is just how much can change within just three months.

When Zuko steps foot inside the Council Room at City Hall, it’s to the sight of not only Aang, Katara and Toph sitting around the wide, arching semi-circle, but they’re also joined by a couple of representatives from the Northern Water Tribe, a woman and man both dressed in varying shades of green - from Omashu and Ba Sing Se, Zuko assumes - an older woman dressed in neutral browns and greys sitting at the head of the table and to his surprise - 

_ Sokka _ . 

When Zuko’s eyes land on his friend, the Water Tribesman shoots him a playful, knowing smile, something unspoken that tells him that they have much to discuss once the meeting is adjourned. 

It isn’t until partially through the meeting, when Sokka speaks up about the planned construction of a new factory and how it may affect the local environment, that Zuko truly understands  _ what _ exactly they’ll have to talk about. 

“You bring up some very valid concerns, Councilman Sokka,” the woman dressed in neutral tones agrees, and all of Zuko’s thoughts go out the window. “Is there any way that we can do some more research and revisit this next week with the Business Council?”

_ Councilman _ Sokka. 

Agni, how much had changed in the three short months since Sokka left the Fire Nation? How was he appointed Councilman so quickly?

Zuko’s eyes find Sokka’s from across the room and the other man shoots him a guilty, knowing smile. And all this time, he had assumed that Sokka told him  _ everything _ in his letters. 

Distracted by the new revelation and the eye contact with Sokka from across the room, Zuko doesn’t immediately notice when the councilwoman asks for his insight next. At least, not until Aang nudges his leg under the table. 

“Fire Lord?” she repeats, watching him like an annoyed teacher or a disappointed advisor or even his  _ Uncle _ whenever he’d drift off and stop listening to his rambling stories.  _ “Thoughts?” _

“Oh, uh -” Zuko stammers, noticing the way that Sokka stifles a laugh behind his hand at his expense. “Yeah, that - that sounds great. I agree with  _ Councilman _ Sokka.”

Apparently, that’s enough for the meeting to continue forward, and with an exasperated sigh, the councilwoman moves onto the next order of business. 

* * *

_ “Councilman?” _ Zuko whispers harshly, grabbing ahold of Sokka’s elbow as they exit City Hall a little over an hour later. He doesn’t miss the smirk that falls on Sokka’s face in response, nor the hand that reaches down to cover his own, holding him in place. 

“Do you have any important  _ Fire Lord _ duties after this, or can I steal you for a little bit?” Sokka asks lowly in response, clearly avoiding Zuko’s loaded question.

Zuko already knows that he’ll do whatever Sokka wants before the words leave his lips, and not ten minutes later, he finds himself ditching his guards to follow Sokka through Republic City’s newly constructed library, ducking to avoid the curious eyes of citizens who easily recognize the Fire Lord in their presence. Despite asking  _ quite a few times _ where they’re going, Sokka doesn’t give any specific answers, only shrugging off Zuko’s questions and insisting that he _ wants to show him something cool. _

_ Something cool _ ends up being the towering rooftop of the library and the view that it gives of Republic City from above at mid afternoon, secluded from the watchful gaze of citizens and council members and even his own royal guard. Sokka leads Zuko over toward one of the rooftop’s ledges and, after deciding that the view is suitable, takes a seat, patting the space next to him. He doesn’t have to ask twice, and after just a moment, Zuko settles in next to him, waiting for an explanation to the question that he asked fifteen minutes ago. 

_ “So… yeah,” _ Sokka mutters, a smile pulling at his lips as he glances over at Zuko, “It uh - it didn't really feel right to tell you _ that _ bit via letter.”

Zuko snorts out a laugh. “Takes the drama out of it?”

“Exactly!” Sokka exclaims, his smile widening, “And the excitement. I wanted to tell you in person, but I didn’t plan on not seeing you before the meeting. Kind of ruined the surprise, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Zuko retorts, watching the way that Sokka’s gaze turns out over the city, “I was pretty surprised.” 

At that, he follows Sokka’s line of sight, looking out over Republic City, taking in the sight of rooftops and towering buildings and the colorful, busy streets. He’s sure that this view is even more beautiful at sunset, but it’s still impressive now, compared to the first time that Zuko laid eyes on it a few years ago when it was still going by  _ Cranefish Town. _ Now, the city is a shining example of everything they’ve all worked so hard towards. Down below them, clothing of all different colors mingles on the city streets - reds and golds and greens and blues and even some purples, oranges, teals and in between - a perfect snapshot of unity and peace. Zuko quickly understands why Sokka enjoys it up here. 

“So…” he breaks the silence after just a few peaceful moments, turning his gaze back to Sokka, “How have things been?”

“Great,” Sokka answers easily, smiling when he looks up to meet Zuko’’s eyes, “Just…  _ busy, _ obviously. I never realized how much work went into running an entire city.”

Zuko knows that there’s probably a story behind all of this, some crazy tale that involves Sokka somehow managing to snag a councilman position that he is  _ surely _ qualified (maybe even  _ over- _ qualified) for, but didn’t intend on taking. He wants to ask for an explanation, but he’s sure that he’ll hear it all over the course of the following weeks in Republic City. So instead, he just snorts out a laugh and mutters, “Imagine running an entire nation.”

“You got me there,” Sokka concedes, chuckling in response, “I don’t know how you do it.”

Zuko turns to shoot another snarky response in Sokka’s direction, but as he glances up at the smiling Water Tribesman, the words die in his throat. Bathed in warm, bright afternoon sun, clad in the bright blues of his tribe, Sokka looks  _ at home _ here, on a rooftop in Republic City. Zuko’s mind wanders back to a conversation that they had only a few short months ago, as they sat out in the gardens, and finds himself thinking that he did the right thing, encouraging Sokka to leave, to come here. Sure, he’d make an incredible ambassador and probably an even better Chief, but Sokka was always made for something bigger than that. He saw it then and he sees it now. 

It isn’t until Sokka seems to feel the weight of his gaze and turns to glance up at him once more that Zuko clears his throat, attempting to find his voice once again. 

“I’m glad that you’re doing well, Sokka,” he manages to string together, “Republic City needs someone like you.”

He doesn’t say, however, that he could use someone like Sokka, too. 


	8. Chapter 8 - We Were The Rebels, Lone Survivors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yoooo! I wasn't planning on updating this soon, but this helped me get my mind off of all of the insanity in the US right now and escape for a little while, so hopefully it does the same for you! 
> 
> Timeline wise, this chapter picks up right where the last one left off and jumps around a little bit until Zuko and Sokka are around 28 years old. I promise that there will be no more huge time jumps any time soon though! 
> 
> Here we go.
> 
> I've been dying to share this chapter with you all finally. I hope you like it.

_We were the rebels, lone survivors  
We were the cult of deep sea divers  
We were young once then we grew old  
We were shining, we were fool's gold  
Hold me till I'm not lonely anymore  
It's only the crashing of the ocean to the shore _

\- "[Lost Boy](https://open.spotify.com/track/0c3GOCzWpUb6ZcAj4TtAYQ?si=-0qtsII2SrGcvUV5KhrMMg)" - The Midnight

* * *

Zuko’s short trip to Republic City goes by all too fast. Nearly two weeks pass in the blink of an eye, and before he knows it, he is on an airship heading back to the Fire Nation once more and missing his friends more than ever. The two weeks together with Aang, Katara, Toph and Sokka - spent in long meetings, over loud dinners and exciting adventures throughout the city and Air Temple Island - are the longest they’ve all been together since the end of the war, and although Zuko knew that he was lacking a proper social circle back home, the stark contrast between his time in Republic City and the loneliness of the royal palace is glaring once he returns. 

Compared to the beautifully crafted, intricate, _welcoming_ buildings on Air Temple Island, the large yet inviting atmosphere of city hall or even the already-cramped, yet beautifully lit library in Republic City, the palace feels like a ghost town. Sure, it’s filled with guards and maids and cooks and ambassadors, but unlike the places that Sokka, Katara and Aang call home halfway across the world, the palace doesn’t feel warm, welcoming or inviting. Without his friends, the palace, which is dark by the time Zuko finally returns home, feels _cold._ Which is ironic, really, if you think about it. 

Most of all, it feels _lonely._

Zuko knows loneliness. He knows what it feels like to be completely and utterly alone. He felt it when he was first banished at thirteen years old with nothing but his disgraced uncle, a rag-tag crew of sailors, the clothes on his back and a fresh scar on his face. Although he was never much of a _social_ child (his only friends were _Azula’s_ friends) Zuko still felt aching loneliness when his father burnt his face and set him out into the world on a mission that he knew he’d never complete. That same loneliness visited him once more after Zhao attempted to have him killed, taking all of his crew (and even his uncle) with him along the way. When Zuko sheared off the final remnants of his Phoenix Tail - the only _honor_ he still clung tightly onto - he felt crippling loneliness and despair. For the first time, he and his uncle were _truly_ alone. They didn’t even have a home to return to one day anymore. 

And still, it didn’t end there. Zuko felt devastatingly alone even after he sided with his sister and ultimately returned to the Fire Nation once more. For the first time in his life, he should have felt like he _belonged_ somewhere, to something, but he never felt more alone than he did in those weeks that he spent back in the palace at just sixteen years old, lying to both himself and the only friends and family he ever knew. In fact, Zuko can’t think of a moment that he _didn’t_ feel alone from the time he was eleven, when his mother disappeared, until he finally stood up to his father and joined the Avatar. 

And even then, it was a long road to happiness and friendship and _belonging._

But in the years following the end of the war, Zuko was lucky enough to have a strong support system. He has friends who care about him, and not just because of his status as Fire Lord or the amount of power that he is capable of wielding - but because they love him. Even the past two weeks in Republic City, spent catching up with Aang, Katara, Toph and Sokka, were proof that Zuko isn’t alone anymore - that people _care_ for him.

But as he steps foot into his chambers for the first time in two weeks, lighting the torches that line the walls with a flick of his wrist, he can’t help but feel more alone that he has felt in _years._ It’s a strange, hollow feeling, and Zuko doesn’t know what to do with it as he stands in the doorway, feeling as though he’s missing something but not quite sure _what._ Was it because he got a taste of how things _used_ to be, long before he took the throne and his friends became scattered across the globe? Was it seeing Katara, Aang and Sokka happily living and working together towards one common goal once more, or even hearing Toph talk about her pride in her metalbending students, or Suki’s excitement about the new Kyoshi Warriors?

Was it the fact that, at the end of the day, he returned home to an empty chamber, to an empty palace, while everyone else had _someone_ to go home to at night, be it adoring students or a caring sister or a loving partner? 

Whatever the reason, Zuko can’t help but feel incredibly _lonely_ as he steps foot into his empty chambers that evening, the events of the past two weeks playing out in his head, the voices and laughter of his friends still ringing in his ears, and not for the first time, he finds himself wishing that he had someone to share his life with here in the Fire Nation. For the first time since his breakup with Mai and the first time since that fateful night on Ember Island with Sokka, he finds himself wishing that he had something like what Katara and Aang or Sokka and Suki have. 

But Zuko is how he has always been.

_Alone._

* * *

In the months following his trip to Republic City and his return to the Fire Nation, Zuko begins to heavily consider the words of his advisors, who have been _insisting_ since he took the throne that he find someone to share it with - a partner, a consort, for fuck’s sake, even just a girlfriend will do. Of course, they’re moreso concerned with Zuko producing an heir and couldn’t care less about his happiness or crippling loneliness, but they might be onto something. Maybe he _does_ need to find someone to spend his time with, to devote the rest of his life to. (To provide him with an heir, as revolting as it may be to consider the idea of his family’s bloodline continuing to rule the Fire Nation.)

There’s a lot to unpack there, and he should probably go about it carefully and after much consideration (and maybe even after some consultation from his uncle) but Zuko is still _young_ and although he has grown considerably in the eight years since becoming Fire Lord, he is still known to make rash, impulsive, emotional decisions. 

Which is why he decides _fuck it,_ and attempts to start _dating._

 _Attempt_ is the keyword. 

Since taking the throne (and after his split with Mai went public) Zuko has had no shortage of suitors and the parents of suitors literally knocking on his door or sending letters to the palace or trying to get his advisors to put in a good word for them. From the start, Zuko was quick to shut them all down, opting to ignore all letters and decline all romantic prospects. His decision, while it appears to have been made lightly (if his advisors have anything to say about it) was made for many reasons. Immediately after taking the throne, Zuko insisted that the _last_ thing he should worry about is his _lineage_ \- he was _sixteen_ and still very in love with his _girlfriend_ for fuck’s sake - but as he grew older, his reasons for putting off marriage and children and continuing the royal bloodline changed. From his embarrassing crush on Sokka to his own self-hatred and the fear that, if he had a child, he wouldn’t be a good enough father or (Agni forbid) they’d turn out like his _own_ father or even Azula, Zuko has had _plenty_ of reasons to put a pin in dating and _procreating_ for the time being. 

But loneliness is a bitch, and it makes people do stupid things.

For Zuko, that means that he attempts to _date,_ to humor his advisors and reply to some letters and try to find someone to spend his time with. 

It doesn’t pan out, of course, and in the end, it leaves Zuko feeling worse than he had before. Countless dates - dinners and lunches and trips to the theater, to the beach, fishing and even flying over the bay in an airship to impress one nobleman’s daughter - only result in confirming Zuko’s fears. Just like his poor date with the sweet Earth Kingdom girl, Jin, in Ba Sing Se, Zuko still feels as if he can’t quite _connect_ with anyone his age. At least, not in the way that he connects with people like Aang and Katara and _of course,_ Sokka. His relationships with Toph and Suki, or Mai and Ty Lee have much more substance than the hollow, vapid conversations with noblemen’s daughters (and even a few of their sons, because _fuck it,_ he repealed the same sex marriage ban, and if his advisors want him getting married so badly, then they better be alright with their Fire Lord’s _preferences_ ).

It’s fucked up, really, that the people Zuko feels closest with are people he once _hunted_ years ago. Their friendships were born from pain and strife and distrust, but over the years, their bonds became unshakable and life-long. 

How the hell is Zuko supposed to find _that_ kind of bond in someone who will never fully understand him?

The answer, simply, is that he _won’t._

He thinks back to his parents’ arranged marriage, and how it not only stole happiness away from his mother and the man she was _meant_ to be with, but how it created a broken family complete with two fucked up kids who would carry their traumas into their adult lives, and after months of attempted and failed relationships, he decides to shelve the idea of dating indefinitely once more. 

_Screw them,_ Zuko decides, sitting in his chambers one night after informing his advisors that he will not be _courting_ anyone anytime soon. If the bloodline ends with him, _then good._ His family _shouldn’t_ rule over the Fire Nation after he’s gone. Let this be the end of it. 

It’s dramatic, _sure,_ but when is Zuko _not?_

He thinks of telling all of this to Sokka, each time he writes to him - because _of course_ they still write to each other, that never seems to stop - but every time Zuko goes to put ink to paper, he can’t seem to find the right words. Whatever there was between them - if _anything_ \- makes telling Sokka in such an informal way feel so... _wrong._ Maybe that’s why Sokka felt that it didn’t feel right to tell Zuko the news of his new position in Republic City via letter. Or maybe, Zuko is just reading too much into that.

It’s probably that. It always is. 

Either way, he conveniently leaves his _romantic life_ out of his letters to Sokka and Suki and Aang and Katara and _especially_ Toph, lest she tease him incessantly about it.. The last thing he wants to write about (and the last thing they probably want to read about, he convinces himself) is his crippling loneliness and his awkward, failed attempts at dating. Instead, when he writes to Republic City (or occasionally Kyoshi Island, or even a small town near Ba Sing Se, where Toph’s metalbending academy resides) Zuko writes of the latest developments in the Fire Nation, his plans to rework the arts programs in schools and how _insane_ his council has been driving him lately. For Sokka, he also includes the latest gossip that he has overheard as he passes by the kitchen and maids quarters - he knows that the other man _lives_ for it. 

Before long, another two, then four, then six months have passed, and while Zuko’s loneliness remains, it has waned a little bit. Once the contrast between Republic City and his home has become a distant memory, it makes the loneliness a little easier to manage. Writing to his friends helps, too. 

That peace and ease of mind is broken, however, when Sokka informs Zuko via letter just a little over six months after he returns home, that Aang will be proposing to Katara soon. 

_It still gives me the oogies, if I’m being completely honest, but I think I’ll always feel that way since she’s my sister,_ Sokka writes in the letter, detailing how he took Aang searching for the perfect stone to use for the betrothal necklace. 

_Normally,_ Sokka goes on to explain, _the father of the would-be bride takes her partner out to search for the perfect material for the necklace, and I’m sure my dad will be annoyed that I did it instead, but screw tradition, am I right? Anyway, we ended up traveling to the Northern Air Temple together to find the right stone, something that spoke to Aang. I’m really proud of the kid. He’s grown up so much and he’s really going to make Katara happy._

_But anyway, what I’m trying to say is, get your fanciest wedding attire ready, because I’m sure the next letter you’ll get will be an invitation to the wedding of the year._

_Can’t wait to see you!_

_Sokka_

And sure enough, only three weeks pass before another letter arrives, this time addressed from Aang and Katara on Air Temple Island. It isn’t a formal invitation (in the letter, Aang says that’ll arrive soon) but instead, a personal message from his friends, excitedly informing him of their engagement and requesting his presence in Republic City for the wedding in three months time. 

_I know it seems soon,_ Aang writes, _but with winter approaching, we didn’t want Hakoda, Bato and Gran Gran to worry about being away from the tribe for too long. Besides, an early fall wedding here on Air Temple Island promises to be beautiful._

Of course, Zuko is quick to write back, assuring Aang that he wouldn’t miss it for the world, and just a week later, he receives the formal invitation.

It isn’t until Zuko is aboard an airship heading for Republic City once more, three months later, that the aching loneliness creeps back into his bones and settles deep within his chest. 

It’s not that he isn’t happy for his friends. No, he’s ecstatic for Aang and Katara. Not only is he glad that two of his closest friends are happy together, but it’s also a beacon of hope - the last airbender and the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe starting a life and (more than likely) a family together. They’re both the last of their kind, and it makes perfect sense that they’d find one another and fall in love in this crazy, fucked up world. 

It’s just that… well, Zuko can’t help but think, as he watches the mass of land approaching over the horizon, he likely won’t find something like that in his lifetime. 

He pushes those thoughts from his head, though, refusing to let his own insecurities and anxieties ruin what promises to be a great week with friends, celebrating the love between two people whom he loves very much.

* * *

Air Temple Island is unlike anything Zuko has ever seen before.

He visited, of course, the last time he stayed in Republic City, and he saw the island before all of the construction took place, but visiting and spending an extended period of time on the island are two very different things. Zuko can’t quite place a finger on it, but there’s something that feels incredibly _sacred_ about the island. Maybe it’s the stunning tower that sits atop one of the highest points of the island, or maybe it’s the great care that went into the beautiful architecture to make sure that everything was authentic to the abandoned air temples across the world. Or _maybe_ it’s the large number of Air Acolytes who live on the island, serving as a beacon of hope for the future of the airbenders and their culture.

Hell, or maybe it’s just the beautiful, yet understated wedding decorations - bouquets of panda lilies wrapped in alternating blue and yellow ribbon - that adorn literally the entire island. 

Whatever it is, it takes Zuko’s breath away from the moment that he steps foot on the island, and he reminds himself once more that the following days to come are _not_ about him - they’re about Aang and Katara and their love for one another. 

The wedding isn’t an extravagant affair - Zuko knows that Aang’s upbringing probably called for simplicity and Katara would naturally respect that - but what it lacks in over the top decorations and decadent cuisine, it makes up for with joyous music, _lots_ of dancing and of course, countless friendly faces. Many of the guests Zuko recognizes - from Katara and Sokka’s father and their grandmother to Smellerbee and Longshot and just about _all_ of the Kyoshi Warriors - but there are many unfamiliar faces in the crowd, too. Although Zuko has taken many trips to the South Pole and vaguely recognizes _some_ of the members of Katara and Sokka’s tribe, he wouldn’t be able to name any of them if he tried. Same thing goes for the vast majority of those in formal Earth Kingdom clothing, and Zuko assumes that the group met many of them during their travels, long before he ever became part of their rag-tag gang of friends. 

Zuko already isn’t a very _social_ person when he doesn’t have to be, and the wedding is no different. After the beautiful and short ceremony, which takes place in the late afternoon in the temple courtyard and leaves not a single dry eye in sight, Zuko finds himself gravitating towards his friends and those that he knows best - people like Sokka, Toph and Suki. And when they’re unavailable or busy chatting it up with their _other_ friends, Zuko finds himself making small talk with some of the Kyoshi Warriors who used to guard the palace, or even leaning against one of the far walls next to a comfortably quiet Longshot. 

The wedding isn’t traditional - at least not in the sense that Zuko is accustomed to - and after the ceremony, friends scatter and mingle for a few hours before the party _really_ gets started. It feels casual and low-key, despite the number of high profile guests in attendance, and by the time everyone is seated for dinner, Zuko _almost_ forgets that it’s a _wedding._ He’s reminded, obviously, when Aang and Katara take their seats at the head of the large room and a hush falls over nearly everyone in attendance. 

Zuko doesn’t realize that Sokka has stood from his own steat, just a few chairs away until he clears his throat and suddenly, all attention falls on him. 

“I know you’re all probably dying to eat - I know I am -” Sokka begins his speech with a joke, which earns a few chuckles and even a few eye-rolls from the crowd. “So I’m going to try to keep this short and simple.” 

The room goes quiet, and like many others in attendance, Zuko suddenly can’t take his eyes off of the brother of the bride. 

“If you’re in this room right now, it’s because at some point in time, either Aang or my sister came crashing into your life, and it was never the same again,” Sokka begins. A small smile pulls at the corner of his mouth as he speaks, “I know, because that’s exactly what happened to Katara and I almost ten years ago, when we found a cheerful little boy inside of an iceberg in the South Pole. I won’t bore you with all the details, because I’m sure you’ve all heard the story countless times by now, but what I’m getting at is, Aang is the type of person who will change your life, and he has changed mine on _multiple_ occasions.”

Zuko finds himself nodding along with Sokka’s words subconsciously, and when he glances around the room, he notices that many other people are doing the same. 

“The first time Aang changed my life was right after we met, and he took us on an insane, terrifying, harrowing, life-threatening journey when we were just _kids,”_ Sokka continues, his smile widening. “The second time wasn’t long after that - it was when I realized just how much he loved Katara.”

A series of murmured _aww_ ’s ring out throughout the room, but Sokka waves them off, shaking his head. “Honestly, you both still give me the _oogies,_ but I’m getting used to it,” he teases. Then, his gentle, easygoing demeanor changes as he continues his speech. 

“The _third_ time that Aang changed my life was when he told me that he wanted to marry my sister,” Sokka says at last, “And for a split second, I was _scared._ It’s stupid, really, but for a moment, I was actually kind of terrified that, once my little sister got married, it would change everything. After all, it has always been the two of us against the world. Ever since we were little kids, we always had each other, and for a second, I was afraid that I might lose her. I uh - I obviously don’t feel that way anymore, otherwise I wouldn’t be up here giving this sappy speech. But what I’m trying to say is, Aang changed my life again when he told me that he wanted to marry my sister, because I came to realize that I wasn’t losing her, but I was gaining a little brother, instead.” 

Another series of _aww_ ’s interrupts, and Zuko glances from Sokka to where Katara and Aang sit, watching as Katara wipes at her eyes with a knuckle, beaming up at her older brother with a wide, proud smile. 

“The coolest little brother in the world, _I might add,”_ Sokka continues, earning a laugh from the crowd and a fond eye-roll from his sister. Even Zuko can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “But what I’m trying to say, is: Aang, _thank you_ for barging into our lives and for changing everything that we thought we knew about the world. I’m obviously eternally grateful for, you know, you ending the 100 Year War and everything, but _\- don’t tell anyone -_ I’m even more grateful that my sister has someone like you to spend the rest of her life with. The two of you have already made this world a better place, and I can’t wait to see what the rest of your lives have in store for you.” 

It’s then, and only then, that Sokka turns away from his sister and the Avatar to gaze out at the crowd. He meets Zuko’s eyes from across their table for the briefest second, just long enough to notice, before raising his glass in a toast and calling, “To Katara and Aang!” before the room erupts in applause.

* * *

Long after Sokka’s heartfelt speech and dinner and decadent dessert, long after the tables have been cleared away and the room opens up to allow for dancing and mingling, Zuko finally manages to sneak away from the crowd. It’s difficult to do so as the Fire Lord in a room filled with important people and friends, but when he sees his chance to slip away unnoticed, he does, quickly stepping out one of the side doors and finding his way out into the courtyard with a glass of wine in hand. 

Compared to the loud, joyous music coupled with the chattering and laughter of friends and family back in the reception, it’s a calm, mild night outside. The further away from the party that Zuko gets, walking until he reaches the railing of the balcony just before the steps descend into the courtyard, the more relaxed he feels. He has never been one for large crowds, and although Aang and Katara’s wedding is cause for celebration and the gathering of many people, he can’t help but want to get away, even if just for a little bit. Years at sea coupled with the fact that the most notable time he stood in front of an amphitheatre full of people was when his father burned half of his face off will do that to a man. 

So as he steps out into the night air, he feels himself deflating and centering once more. Just a few minutes, and he’ll be okay to go back inside. He just needs time to himself, which can be _very_ hard to come by as the Fire Lord in foreign lands. 

Leaning against the wooden railing, Zuko takes a deep breath and exhales his anxieties the best that he can, allowing his thoughts to drift as he unwinds. He can’t help the way that his mind immediately wanders to Sokka’s heartfelt and beautifully worded speech, delivered less than an hour ago, but still fresh in his memory. Sokka had been right when he said that Aang was the type of person that would change your life, and it wasn’t just because he was the Avatar - that’s just who he was as a person. Zuko knows that he wouldn’t be where he is today - _who_ he is today - if it weren’t for Aang’s kindness, selflessness and most of all, his willingness to forgive. He owes so much to Aang, and although he knows that the airbender would never expect him to repay those debts, Zuko can’t help but dwell on it now, looking over Yue Bay at Republic City and reflecting on everything they’ve managed to build in the years following the end of the war. Like Republic City and Air Temple Island, Katara and Aang’s union is yet another victory, a symbol of hope and unity. 

It’s also something that Zuko recently acknowledged that he may never have. _And that’s fine._ It’s not that he’s out here _moping_ about the fact that he may never marry, that he may never find someone who understands him perfectly and loves him unconditionally the way that Katara loves Aang and vice versa, but well… weddings do that to lonely people. And Zuko would be lying if he said he wasn’t lonely. 

Before he can dwell on _that_ for too long, though, Zuko’s thoughts are interrupted by the sudden sound of a door opening, the brief sound of the party leaking out into the quiet night before it swings shut, then boots on hard wood. 

“I figured I’d find you out here,” a voice rings out into the darkness, and Zuko feels a sense of fondness blossoming in his chest before he even turns to look at its owner, “Mind if I join you?”

When Zuko _does_ look at Sokka - and _really_ look at him for the first time since earlier in the evening - he can’t help but notice the way that his elegant formal attire clashes with the near childlike grin on his face. One would think that at twenty-four years old, Sokka would have matured out of his cheesy jokes, snappy one-liners, and boyish charm, but Zuko is grateful that some things haven’t changed. 

“Please,” Zuko replies with a smile of his own and watches as Sokka eagerly closes the space between them. Sokka settles on his left, leaning casually on the railing, mimicking Zuko’s own stance with a drink in his hands, as well. 

Opting to be the first to break the silence, Zuko only waits a few seconds before commenting, “Your speech was great.”

The grin that spreads across Sokka’s face is warm and inviting. “You think so?” he asks, “I feel like I still suck at public speaking… I was worried it would be too sappy.”

“Just sappy enough,” Zuko says with a shake of his head. 

“Thanks!” Sokka exclaims, “Toph told me I didn’t talk about Katara enough, but I mean, I talk about her _all the time._ She’s my _sister._ She already knows that I love her, y’know?”

Zuko huffs out a laugh, a small smile pulling on his lips. “Don’t listen to Toph. It was really good.”

And in response, Sokka snorts out a laugh of his own. “Well then try not to sound so _broody_ about it.”

The remark comes as a surprise to Zuko, who quickly faces Sokka, his eyes going wide for a moment before narrowing in annoyance and confusion. “I’m not -” he begins to say in defense of himself, but just as the words come out, Sokka raises his eyebrows, as if challenging his words, and Zuko sighs. “I’m not _brooding._ It just got me thinking, is all.”

At that, Sokka’s face morphs into another easy, teasing smile as he scoots closer to Zuko, even nudging him a little bit with his elbow. “Oh yeah?” he asks, “About what?”

And _yeah,_ some things never change. Deep down, Sokka is still the dorky, obnoxious, hilarious sixteen year old that Zuko first met nearly a decade ago. He shakes his head fondly at Sokka’s antics, but doesn’t ignore his question. “How you were right, about Aang changing people’s lives. I can’t even begin to imagine what my life would be like, had he not -” Zuko begins to answer, then abruptly stops and asks, “Did I ever tell you about the time he saved me from Zhao?”

He relishes the way that Sokka’s eyes go wide in response, because somehow, he can still manage to surprise the master tactician. _“No,”_ Sokka replies, a scandalized tone to his voice, _“Zhao?_ But that was -”

“Long before we were friends, yeah,” Zuko confirms, “Ask him about it sometime. He’ll probably tell the story way better than I can.”

“Oh I _need_ to hear about this,” Sokka insists, and Zuko can practically see the excitement in his eyes, “Can you imagine what it would have been like if you would have joined us sooner?”

Zuko doesn’t want to admit that he thinks about that _all the time._ It makes his throat tight, and he can’t quite get the words out. 

“Yeah…” he murmurs instead, attempting to steer the conversation away from _that_ particular subject, “I wouldn’t be who I am today without someone like Aang… Katara, Toph, _you._ Your speech just brought up a lot of memories, I suppose. It has almost been ten years, and it feels like so much has changed since then.”

Sokka hums thoughtfully in agreement. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything and instead, lifts his own mixed drink to his lips and takes a sip. 

“We’ve all grown up a lot since then.”

Like Sokka, Zuko hums in agreement, taking a drink of his own wine, which he had nearly forgotten about. A comfortable silence falls between them, and for a few moments, that’s it - just two friends quietly enjoying each other’s company. But just when Zuko begins to think that Sokka won’t probe any more, that he’ll just let the conversation die, the other man breaks the silence once more. 

“There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Zuko could easily lie to Sokka. He could admit that he still has troubles with large crowds and just needed some time to himself and it _wouldn’t_ be a total lie, but it _would_ open up a whole other can of worms, and he’s not entirely sure that he’s ready to address that trauma head-on quite yet. He’s a bad liar as is, and he knows that Sokka’s deductive skills are great, so with a sigh, he just admits, “It’s stupid.”

And Sokka, master of subtlety and the delicacy of sensitive, personal subjects, just exclaims, “Well, luckily for you, I _love_ stupid shit!” It earns an exasperated look from Zuko, but before he can argue, Sokka is nudging him once more and insisting, “Come on, hit me.”

And, well… _fuck it._

He and Sokka have already shared so much over the years, between their harrowing escape from The Boiling Rock, to recovering from their injuries together after Sozin’s Comet, to Sokka coaxing the truth out of him between late night sparring sessions and a life-changing vacation to Ember Island… Zuko would like to say that he’s _over_ Sokka, that the other man doesn’t hold any power over him, that he doesn’t want to just _tell him everything_ after a disarming smile and some gentle words, but he’d be lying.

So _fuck it,_ he decides. How is this any different?

Zuko swallows, then in a quiet, small voice, he mumbles, “I uh - I’ve been trying to… _date.”_

He _really_ should have expected Sokka’s response, but that doesn’t stop Zuko from jumping slightly when the other man exclaims, _“Tell me everything!_ Did you meet a handsome nobleman? A beautiful girl? I need to know -”

Regaining a sliver of composure, Zuko quickly manages to wave him off before he can get _too_ carried away or draw unwanted attention. “It didn’t work out.”

Sokka, who is leaning against the railing, some of his drink sloshing over the edge of the glass at his sudden, excited movement, frowns at this development. “Don’t tell me you just gave up after a couple of bad dates… Look, I know that Fire Nation nobles can be stiffs, but -”

“It’s not that,” Zuko interrupts, “It’s just - _ugh_ -”

Zuko groans, frustrated and embarrassed and struggling to find the right words to express what he feels without coming across as judgmental or snobby. He sighs, shaking his head, knowing that at this point, he _has_ to spit the words out. Sokka won’t just let him write it off like it’s nothing.

“I feel so stupid saying this… but, I’ve found it hard to connect with other people my age, if that makes sense. I’ve just… _seen_ so much, and so many of the people in Caldera City have lived there their whole lives,” he admits, “They don’t know what it’s like to live on the road, wondering when your next meal might be, to fight for your life, not knowing if you’re going to make it out alive -” 

Zuko cuts himself off before he can get carried away or get too emotional. It’s the first time that he has voiced these thoughts and feelings out loud, and the last thing that he wants to do is completely break down at Aang and Katara’s wedding because _he’s lonely._

“Sorry,” he mutters at last, “I didn’t mean to dump that all on you. This is supposed to be a joyous occasion and -”

“Zuko, _stop,”_ Sokka interjects, placing a gentle, comforting hand on his arm. Zuko blinks, and suddenly, he’s sitting in the training arena, having a heart to heart with Sokka after an intense sparring season, or he’s on an Ember Island beach under the moonlight, opening up about his father for the first time. Then, he blinks again, and he’s standing on Air Temple Island at nearly twenty-five years old, still sorting through his residual childhood trauma. _Agni,_ he’s a mess. 

“You’re not dumping anything on me,” Sokka’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts, and Zuko looks up at him with wide eyes. “ _I get it._ More than anyone else, I get it.”

Zuko wants to tell him that he _doesn’t_ get it, that he couldn’t _possibly_ get it because he has his sister and Aang and _Suki,_ but he doesn’t want to go down _that_ rabbit hole. Instead he just mutters out, “Yeah…”

But apparently, that’s not enough for Sokka.

“Remember that talk we had, when I was in the Fire Nation, about how I didn’t want to go back to the South Pole?” he asks, seemingly changing the subject. Zuko’s not entirely sure that he knows what he’s getting at with this, but regardless, he does recall that particular conversation and nods. Sokka continues, _“Yeah,_ it was partially because I felt like I could be useful elsewhere, that I still had work to do alongside my sister and Aang... But it was also because I felt like an outsider in my own home. Sure, my tribe had a vague idea of what we went through, but they didn’t _understand_ it. Not even the other warriors really got it, you know? Now, I’m obviously not trying to _date_ any of them, and I’m lucky to have someone like Suki who understands, but _I get it._ I know what it’s like to look at people that you once considered peers and realize that none of them will ever truly understand you. _”_

For a moment, Zuko feels stupid for thinking that Sokka didn’t understand. Of course, he wasn’t completely and entirely alone when he was back home in the South Pole, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t _feel_ lonely or misunderstood, and it certainly doesn’t mean that he didn’t feel like an outsider in his own home. Of all people, Sokka probably understands _the most._

So in return, Zuko swallows and nods. “I won’t say I’m _glad_ that you feel that way, but it’s good to know that I’m not the only one.”

At that, Sokka leans in to throw a casual arm over Zuko’s shoulders, something that he has done countless times before. “Yeah, man!” he exclaims, “We’ve got _shared_ trauma. Doesn’t get much better than that.”

Zuko groans in response, but he doesn’t pull away from Sokka, and he certainly can’t keep the smile from his face. Sokka has always had a way of drawing him out of his shell and making things feel so much _easier_ than they actually are. Now is no exception. 

_“There’s_ a smile!” Sokka continues to tease, shaking him a little with the arm slung around his shoulders. “You’re too handsome to spend the whole evening out here _brooding_. Come on - we need to get some more alcohol in you.”

Zuko opens his mouth to argue, to insist that the _last_ thing that he should be doing right now is drinking his sorrows away, but before he gets a chance, another voice interrupts their moment. 

_“There you two are!”_ Suki’s voice rings out into the empty courtyard, and when Zuko turns - not by his own volition, but because Sokka still has his arm around him and is maneuvering his body - it’s to watch as she approaches from the same doors he exited through less than thirty minutes ago. She looks stunning in her own formal attire as well, her knee-length pale green dress billowing behind her as she strides through the cool evening air, her eyes lighting up and a smile spreading across her face as she spies Sokka with Zuko. “What are you doing out here? You’re missing all the fun! I’m pretty sure Toph just challenged one of the members of King Kuei’s royal guard to an earthbending competition.”

While Zuko facepalms at the idea of Toph sparking an international incident at _the Avatar’s wedding,_ Sokka explains next to him, pulling him impossibly closer, “I was just bragging about how I have the hottest date at this wedding and _Zuko_ was just telling me how _terrible_ dating in Caldera is.”

Zuko has to stop himself from another facepalm in response and instead, focuses on Suki, who quickly turns her attention to him. 

“The party got a little _too much?”_ she asks, voice full of understanding. Of course she gets it. She spent years in the palace with him, and she knows full well how much he hates crowds. She also knows well enough not to pry into the _dating_ comment. 

Zuko nods, muttering out a simple, “Yeah.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but the others are going to notice your absence soon, so you might want to head back in before your break becomes counterproductive,” she responds with an understanding, apologetic smile, “Aang has been asking about both of you.”

 _“Ugh,_ maybe we’re sick of him and Katara being so _smoochy!”_ Sokka exclaims, which earns a chuckle from Suki.

“Well, how about this: we go back in, and the _hottest date_ at this wedding will dance with _both_ of you so you don’t have to deal with it. Sound good?”

Sokka pumps his fist, which earns a chuckle from Zuko. “Deal!”

And as they walk back into the reception, Sokka pulls him impossibly closer, still refusing to release him from his vice-like grip around his shoulders and mutters, “You start feeling shitty, and we’ll come right back out here - okay?” 

And _spirits,_ what did Zuko do to deserve such great friends?

* * *

_Those friends,_ as it turns out, are the only thing that manage to keep Zuko sane and grounded over the next couple of years. The wedding comes and goes, as does the tenth anniversary of the end of the 100 Year War, and _they all grow up,_ but some things don’t change. Thankfully, their _friendship_ is one of those things. 

So are the letters that Sokka continues to write, even when he’s buried under his work as a councilman in Republic City, or busy overseeing construction back home in the South Pole, or even traveling to Ba Sing Se alongside Aang and Katara on _official Avatar business._ Sokka’s letters are a constant in Zuko’s life, and he’d be lying if he said that he still didn’t feel the same excitement upon receiving one that he felt upon receiving the first letter. 

At nearly twenty-eight years old, the letters from Sokka (and the occasional messages from Katara and Aang and Suki and sometimes even Toph, who forces one of her pupils to write it out for her) remind him of the naive optimism that he had when he first took the throne, of all of the hard work that he has put in over the years and how much things have _changed_ across the four nations since then. Sokka’s letters, which detail the “boring” meetings and the “much more exciting” occasional clash between benders and non-benders in Republic City, the excruciatingly long trade deals in Ba Sing Se, or even Iroh’s latest brew at the Jasmine Dragon, remind Zuko that he’s not in this alone. Sure, he might be running a nation by himself, but by this point, he has been doing it for over a decade, and (as he writes in one of his letters to Sokka) _he’s damn good at it._ And although technically, he _is_ alone (aside from Mai and occasionally Ty Lee, he doesn’t have any of his close friends with him here in Caldera) Sokka’s letters remind him that he isn’t _actually_ alone. 

(The letters also remind him that embarrassingly, he still has feelings for the other man, but that’s easy to bury and burn before those thoughts and feelings get out of hand.)

Over the next few years, those letters are one of the few things that stop Zuko from going absolutely insane. Whenever he’s feeling particularly tense or exhausted after a long week of meetings and proposals and appearances and speeches, he receives a letter from Sokka, detailing his latest visit to Toph’s ever-growing metalbending academy, or Aang’s embarrassment over one of the most recent sculptures erected in his honor (this time in Omashu) or even his sister’s latest success while training some of the newest waterbenders in Republic City, and it eases the tension and anxiety out of his bones. After a particularly long, lonely week, Zuko writes to Sokka, telling him that he has been considering moving Azula to a lower security halfway house in hopes to rekindle their relationship. It feels like a stupid idea when he puts it on paper - he literally wears a scar in the middle of his chest from the time that his sister nearly killed him - but when Sokka writes back, encouraging him that forgiving his sister and trying to form a relationship with his is the _least Ozai thing he could do,_ Zuko decides that maybe, it isn’t such a bad idea afterall. 

Through these letters, Zuko even learns of Katara’s first two pregnancies before _she_ even writes, with Sokka’s excited, shorthand, hastily-sent letters arriving just a couple of days before her and Aang’s own beautifully worded announcements. He receives invitations to ceremonies and birthdays and celebrations, all of which he attends, when he can, and over the years, he also learns of the major growth in Republic City, Ba Sing Se, the Northern Water Tribe _and_ the South Pole in letters from Sokka long before word reaches his council or his ambassadors. When Sokka’s grandmother falls ill, Sokka writes, expressing his concern and uncertainty and anxiety, and Zuko is quick to send words of encouragement and strength. And when his father eventually remarries, Sokka writes to invite Zuko to the wedding, mentioning that _Gran Gran pulled through, so she’s expecting the Fire Lord to be there, sorry I don’t make the rules._ And during times that they go long months without seeing each other, Sokka’s letters not only keep him connected with the outside world, but they keep the two of them connected, and for that, Zuko is eternally grateful. 

So, on a late summer evening, after a long day of meetings, when Zuko receives a letter from Republic City, he’s quick to open it without glancing at the name of the sender, eager to read what news Sokka has for him now. He’s surprised, however, when instead of unrolling the parchment to reveal Sokka’s neat handwriting, detailing his latest shenanigans in Republic City or Ba Sing Se or back home in the South Pole, Zuko finds himself staring down at elegant, loopy letters that belong to none other than Katara. The message isn’t long and drawn out, like many of Sokka’s are, either. Instead, it’s short and to the point.

And it has Zuko nearly collapsing on the spot. 

_Zuko,_ it reads,

_As you’re aware, tensions have been building between benders and non-benders in Republic City over the past few months. We’ve been tracking these radical groups closely and it appeared that law enforcement had the situation under control, however -_

The next line is scratched out and indecipherable. Zuko squints at the parchment in the dim light of his study, but he can’t make it out, so he moves on to the second and final brief paragraph.

_There was an incident, involving Suki. She didn’t make it. Please come, if you can._

_Katara_

And just like that, the sense of normalcy, stability and _safety_ comes crumbling down around Zuko. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL IM SORRY ABOUT THE CLIFFHANGER I REALLY AM BUT I JUST HAD TO. 
> 
> Please feel free to scream at me in the comments.


	9. Chapter 9 / INTERLUDE - An Ordeal Can Reveal An Airfield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just start this out by apologizing for leaving you all on such an awful cliffhanger last chapter. We all knew it was coming eventually, but that doesn't make it any easier. Hopefully this one makes up for it at least a little bit!
> 
> This chapter is a flashback/interlude of sorts, and does not take place immediately following the events of the previous chapter. Instead, it takes place right after Sozin's Comet. I’m sure that’ll be kind of obvious within the first paragraph, but I just wanted to make it clear so the time jump isn’t confusing, haha. 
> 
> While I was in the middle of outlining this fic, I had this headcanon about Zuko and Sokka healing together after the end of the war since they were both injured on the day of Sozin’s Comet, so this chapter happened as a little bit of an interlude and (somewhat) lighthearted break before things get heavy in the next few chapters. Enjoy!
> 
> (Also for anyone who missed it, a playlist for this fic can be found [HERE](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1uW2T1F3IvNL0OGiINcJ5x?si=dTVUzIc7STWsPMNHGXbNdA).)

_ It's common for people to believe  
Everything happens for a reason  
I'm sorry that's false, and it's poison _

_ Even if there is no purpose  
To the things that you have gone through  
An ordeal can reveal an airfield _

_ Stop, disown fear  
And I'll be here  
If you need a friend, my dear _

\- "[Airfield](https://open.spotify.com/track/0iLbnpbsLCoQ3jltHPHfN9?si=3egCWMtVR8e5311Pzaa5Bg)" - Enter Shikari

* * *

**TWELVE YEARS EARLIER  
Two days after Sozin's Comet**

Zuko comes-to twice. Once after Katara heals him in the arena, with his sister chained to the ground and screaming blue fire behind them, and a second time, long after he passes out from pain and exhaustion, in the sterile, clean palace infirmary. The second time that he comes-to, it takes him a few minutes to regain consciousness and understand where he is and what it means. 

_ They won.  _

They won, and  _ clearly _ he was welcomed back to the Fire Nation with open arms. He’s sure his uncle has something to do with that, but he doesn’t know how to ask, and frankly, he’s not even sure that he can speak. So instead, he just takes in his surroundings and tries to take inventory of everything that he knows. 

He knows that they defeated his sister. Before he collapsed at Katara’s side, he was lucid enough to understand that she had detained Azula, chaining her to a metal grate in the ground in an effort to humanely control her. If Zuko is safe in the palace infirmary right now, then it’s also safe to say that Azula is likely locked up somewhere where she can’t hurt anyone or herself.

Which brings him to the second thing that he knows. If he is here, then that  _ clearly _ means that his father has lost control of the Fire Nation. He doesn’t want to assume, but if he had to guess, there’s a high possibility that Aang defeated his father. He knew that the kid had it in him. He should probably feel more conflicted about the fact that his father may or may not be dead, but all that he can feel is a wave of relief.

And third, Zuko knows that, despite  _ winning _ this whole thing, he has been injured. He obviously isn’t on the brink of death, if the lack of healers nearby is anything to go by, but he can feel the ache deep in his bones, the phantom tingling that stretches from his core to his limbs and all the way to the tips of his fingers, like lightning still trying to find a path to escape, still trapped inside of him. His ears are still ringing and his throat feels raw, like he has been breathing fire, and he doesn’t even think he could move if he tried. 

So Zuko does the only thing he can think of - he groans hoarsely in pain, as if to prove to himself that this is real, it isn’t a dream and he certainly isn’t dead. What he doesn’t expect, however, is a response. 

“Oh good, you’re up!”

The chipper voice is a stark contrast to the way that Zuko  _ feels _ right now, and it takes everything in his power for him to turn his head, just ever so slightly, to look in the direction of the voice. 

There, just a few feet to his right, sitting up in a disheveled infirmary bed, is none other than Sokka. 

Surprised by the Water Tribesman’s presence and suddenly curious of how long he was out, Zuko attempts to move, to sit up, to ask Sokka  _ what the hell is going on, _ but the second that he shifts, his chest aches like it’s on fire and Zuko throws his head back, biting back a silent scream. 

“Hey, don’t move - Katara said you probably shouldn’t push yourself,” Sokka says gently. Despite his closed eyes, Zuko can tell by the sound of Sokka’s voice, moving throughout the room, that he is up and approaching him, albeit very slowly. There’s also a strange sound, one that he can’t quite place, of wood clicking against the floor alongside Sokka’s slow footsteps. 

“I’m sure you’re probably wondering what's going on,” Sokka continues, and Zuko can tell when he eventually gets close enough and takes a seat in a chair next to his bed. “She said you passed out right after they got you in here. How’s your head feeling? Sorry, I’m probably talking too much. You don’t need to reply, she said -”

“It’s  _ fine - _ ” Zuko manages to grit out, his voice gravely and foreign in his own ears. “I - my chest -”

_ “Oh,” _ Sokka breathes, his voice taking on a more serious, darker tone. It’s enough that Zuko opens his eyes despite the pain, and the sight is something that he didn’t quite expect. 

Sokka’s hair is down, ripped from his signature wolftail, framing his face in messy, somewhat matted waves. Under both of his eyes are two dark circles, as if he hasn’t slept in a few days, and, as Zuko’s gaze travels down his body, he notices, among his torn and tattered clothing -

A splint that runs along the length of his left leg. 

Zuko’s eyes widen for a brief moment and he rasps, “Are you -”

“I’m  _ fine,” _ Sokka insists, a warm, reassuring smile spreading across his face. “Trust me. The healers gave me something to help with the pain - I can barely feel it.”

Zuko realizes as Sokka talks, that if Katara had healed him, his leg wouldn’t be in a splint right now. In fact, he might even be up and walking. He’s sure that if  _ he’s _ alive right now, it’s because Sokka insisted that she put her energy towards healing the future Fire Lord, and not his leg. Obviously, none of this has been confirmed yet, but it doesn’t stop the guilt from bubbling up in Zuko’s chest. He opens his mouth to say something, but Sokka cuts him off with a finger in his face. 

“Hey -  _ no talking _ ,” he commands, his brow pulling into a tight, serious line. It fades quickly, though, replaced once more by an easygoing smile and a tilt of his head. “How about this: I tell you everything that I know, and you listen. Then, once Katara comes back, if she deems you ready, you can ask any questions you want. Sound good?”

Zuko rolls his eyes and groans,  _ almost _ opening his mouth to say something snarky in response, but the phantom burn in his chest and his throat stops him short. So, despite the fact that he already has  _ countless  _ unanswered questions, he closes his eyes and nods.

* * *

As it turns out, Zuko’s suspicions were right. After nearly an hour of Sokka filling him in on literally every single detail between the comet -  _ which was two full days ago  _ \- and now, Katara steps through the double doors of the infirmary and immediately shoos her brother away so she can start another healing session on Zuko. 

_ Zuko, _ who just learned that not only did the Avatar defeat his father, but he also  _ didn’t kill him _ and instead, somehow managed to take his bending away permanently. Zuko, who also just listened to Sokka recount his own harrowing story about taking down an entire airship fleet with the help of Suki and Toph.    


_ (“So there I was, hanging over the edge of the airship, holding onto Toph, no boomerang, no space sword - may it rest in peace - and I won’t lie, I thought it was over. I was sure that we were going to die, and them BAM! Here comes Suki, like the fucking badass that she is, to save the day!”) _

_ Zuko, _ who can’t help but cry out in pain as Katara presses the glowing blue water to the fresh new scar in the middle of his sternum, and  _ spirits, _ is _ healing _ supposed to hurt this bad?

_ “There’s _ his voice!” Sokka proclaims from across the room, pumping his fist in the air and earning a sigh and an eye roll from his sister, who, Zuko is sure that she would have flung water in his direction if she wasn’t actively  _ working.  _

“You’re going to need to take it easy for a few days - maybe even a week,” Katara tells him, once the session is over. 

Zuko, barely strong enough to even sit up on his elbows without pain shooting through his entire body, can’t help but argue, “But I -”

“Look, I don’t care if you’re the next  _ Fire Lord _ or not. You’re in no shape to be doing  _ anything _ right now, let alone leading a nation. Let your uncle handle it for a few days,” Katara insists sternly. 

“Katara -”

_ “No,” _ she commands harshly, but immediately sighs afterwards, her body deflating a little bit. “I can still feel remnants of her lightning inside of you,  _ okay? _ The last thing I want is something happening when I can help it. You stay here.  _ Got it?” _

And despite his duty and honor screaming at him to tell her no, Zuko swallows and nods, muttering out a quiet, “Okay.”

“I’m going to go find some food for  _ both of you,” _ Katara says at last, taking Zuko’s reluctant agreement as enough. She shoots a pointed look at Sokka, who is moving to stand from his place across the room, his crutch poised on the ground, and adds,  _ “You’re _ babysitting him. Make sure he doesn’t go wandering off.”

The smirk that spreads across Sokka’s face in response is downright terrifying. 

It still doesn’t stop Zuko from asking, moments after Katara has left the room and is likely out of earshot, “Is she  _ always _ that demanding?”

Sokka, in return, barks out a laugh.

* * *

A few days turns into four days, which quickly turns into nearly a week in the infirmary with a small amount of progress, but not enough for Zuko to be trusted around the palace on his own. 

“Your friend is right,” his uncle tells him gently, five days into his recovery, “It is best that you take your time healing here, before you make your grand appearance in front of your nation. I know that you are anxious to get back on your feet, but your people need to know that you are strong and well. Do you understand?”

And despite his frustration, Zuko nods and grits out, “I understand.”

The good thing about spending a week in the infirmary though, is that he doesn’t do it alone. 

Because Katara focused her healing on Zuko, Sokka’s leg went relatively untreated for the first couple of days, and by the time they finally got to it, not only did the injury need to be reset (which was a painful experience just to  _ watch, _ let alone go through) but Katara’s healing capabilities were limited. 

“It just doesn’t work the same way with bone,” she explains to Sokka one afternoon, a frown creasing her forehead, “It’s going to be a longer healing process.”

But even though Sokka looks disappointed at the news, it doesn’t stop him from smiling in Zuko’s direction and proclaiming, “That just means I get to keep Zuko company!”

Outwardly, Zuko groans loudly in response, earning a chuckle from both Katara and his uncle, but inwardly, he’s actually kind of grateful that he doesn’t have to go through this alone. Although Sokka’s rambling can sometimes drive him mad, the company is welcome. It stops Zuko’s thoughts from drifting to dangerous places, and it keeps him focused on the future, not the incredibly frustrating present. 

Spending nearly all waking hours of the day together, however, means that Zuko gets to witness both the exciting and the ugly aftereffects of winning the war. Reuniting with Suki, Toph and eventually  _ Aang _ is everything that Zuko wished for going into this - all of his friends not only survived, but they’re flourishing - and even _ Mai _ telling him that she’s proud of him is something that he thought would never happen. 

The nightmares, however, are a different story. 

Zuko is used to nightmares, so when he wakes with a start in the middle of the night, images of blue flames and lightning flashing behind his eyes, he isn’t necessarily surprised. What  _ does _ surprise him, however, is when he spies the silhouette of Sokka sitting up in his own bed, his head bowed and shoulders slumped and shaking and is he…  _ crying? _

For a moment, Zuko considers just leaving him be. Whatever is going on, he probably doesn’t want someone else probing into his business and would prefer to be left alone, but -

But _ then, _ Zuko thinks back to his first few nights at sea, how he woke up screaming in the middle of the night, and how his uncle’s soothing voice and gentle touch lulled him back to sleep. He thinks of how easily Sokka accepted him into their tight-knit group, despite their complicated past and all of his mistakes. He thinks of Sokka’s trust in him when they were leading a prison break at the Boiling Rock and how their friendship has blossomed since then, and he knows that it wouldn’t be right to ignore this if Sokka needs him.

So Zuko takes a deep breath and calls out -

_ “Sokka?” _

The other boy freezes across the room, and Zuko gives him a moment before gently asking, “Are you okay?”

He hears Sokka take a deep, shuddering breath, then -

_ “Yeah,”  _ he sniffles, voice soft when he speaks, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Zuko presses his lips together, trying to figure out the right thing to say. He doesn’t want to pry or make him uncomfortable, but at the same time, Sokka has been such a strong source of positivity and comfort these past few days, Zuko would feel like an asshole if he didn’t at least attempt to repay the favor. 

“You sure?” he asks, “You don’t  _ sound _ fine.”

And… _ okay. _ Maybe that was a little much, but - 

“I had a nightmare,” Sokka admits quietly, cutting his thoughts short, and  _ oh. _

“Same here,” Zuko admits, hoping that he finds it comforting. “We could uh... swap nightmare stories?”

The question earns a choked laugh from the boy across the room, and Zuko watches as the silhouette nods, his movements a bit jerky. “Yeah,” he mutters, “Sure.”

So Zuko sits up, just enough to make some space at the foot of his bed, and just enough that it doesn’t quite hurt, and pats the mattress. “Well, come on then.”

Fifteen minutes later, after Zuko has lit a couple of the torches in the infirmary, the flames bright enough to make out each other’s faces but low enough that the guards outside the door don’t come in to investigate, Sokka is sitting cross-legged at his feet wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands, shaking his head back and forth. 

“I’m sorry, I -”

“Don’t apologize,” Zuko interrupts. If he could reach forward to place a comforting hand on his friend, he would, but it hurts to move much more than he already has, so he hopes his words are comfort enough. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Sokka just finished telling him about his dream, that it was the day of the comet once more, only this time, they weren’t so lucky - Toph had slipped from his grip, screaming his name as she fell, while Suki never came to the rescue and the Fire Nation soldiers advanced. The last thing Sokka remembered, he was engulfed in flames and biting back a scream as he awoke. 

He has  _ no reason _ to apologize for getting emotional about _ that. _ Zuko would too, if he were in his shoes. 

But Sokka is too hard on himself. He shakes his head again. “It’s stupid,” he insists, “I shouldn’t even be having nightmares, not when you dealt with -”

Sokka cuts himself off, but Zuko gets what he’s trying to say. He dealt with his sister shooting him full of lightning, his father burning off half of his face (although he’s not quite sure if Sokka knows  _ that _ story yet). He has been through much more trauma, and he knows that Sokka feels guilty for reacting the way he is to a bad dream.

Zuko can’t have that.

“I’ve known pain my whole life,” he says with a shrug, “You’re allowed to feel scared and traumatized after what you just went through. I’m just used to it.”

Sokka directs a half-hearted glare in his direction. “That doesn’t make it  _ better!”  _ he whispers harshly. 

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” Zuko agrees, “But it doesn’t make what you went through any less traumatic.”

Sokka sighs, apparently opting to drop the subject as he nudges gently against Zuko’s leg. “Aren’t we a pair?” he muses, a smile spreading across his face.

And Zuko can’t help but offer a smile in return.

* * *

Over the next few nights, it becomes routine for Sokka to sit up in Zuko’s bed late into the night, talking about anything and everything until his eyelids become heavy and his body starts to slump with exhaustion. Sometimes, they talk about the war. Sokka recounts the events of the day of the comet to Zuko a handful of times, telling him how incredible Aang was, how he’d be proud of the kid for standing his ground and finding a non-violent way to take Ozai down. Zuko tells Sokka about how _ brave _ Katara had been, facing off against and ultimately subduing Azula. They talk about their fears and their nightmares and what keeps them up at night.

But that’s not all they talk about.

When it becomes too much and they just need to get their minds off of everything that they’ve been through, Zuko finds himself telling Sokka of the happier times in his life, of the vacations that he used to take with his family on Ember Island, spending time with his mother and his uncle and his cousin, when things seemed much easier. He tells Sokka about how he and Lu Ten used to spend hours on the beach, carefully crafting sand castles only for Azula to show up and destroy them. He tells Sokka of his time in Ba Sing Se with his uncle and how, after freeing Appa, he actually managed to put the past behind him (or so he thought) and imagine starting a new life there, with his uncle.

(He doesn’t admit, however, that right now, a small part of him wishes that he would have stayed.)

Sokka, in turn, talks about the moments during his journey with Aang that Zuko  _ didn’t _ see. “You know,” he explains one evening, a smirk dancing across his face, “When we weren’t actively being  _ hunted, _ it was actually a lot of fun.” 

He tells Zuko of using the mail system in Omashu as a personal thrill ride, of traversing through a seemingly never-ending cave with a band of annoying yet incredibly endearing traveling musicians, of trying to convince an entire town that their faux fortune teller was a hoax and the time Aang nearly started a riot at a Fire Nation school. “So people were  _ always _ actively trying to capture us,” Sokka admits after he ends his most recent story the same way that he ended the others - they then left because someone spotted them or someone attacked them or they knew that someone was closing in on them. “But it was still fun!”

In addition to that, they  _ also, _ very briefly, discuss their hopes and fears for the future. Sokka talks excitedly about how he can’t wait to go back home and share all of his stories with his tribe, how he is dying to set foot on  _ ice _ again, while Zuko expresses that he hopes that they can finally bring some peace to the Fire Nation. Their talks aren’t always positive and uplifting - more than once, Sokka mentions that he’s scared that people will be reluctant to change and Zuko shares his fears - but at the very least, it’s comforting.

* * *

As they inch closer to the two week mark following the comet, Katara finally gives her brother the all clear to leave the infirmary, just as long as he doesn’t put too much weight on his injured leg. Sokka pumps his fist with excitement at the news, but selfishly, Zuko can’t help but feel disappointed. He’s not sure if he’d ever admit it out loud, but he had grown to look forward to and even cherish their late night talks and heart-to-hearts. Aside from his uncle, Zuko has never really had anyone (let alone someone his own age) to talk to or confide in. It feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders when he finally admits to Sokka that he’s scared for the future, that he wants his sister to get better, or that he doesn’t know if he can ever face his father.

So he can’t help the disappointment that he feels when Katara tells Sokka that he doesn’t have to remain bedridden anymore (not that he ever really was in the first place). It’s not that he  _ needs _ Sokka by any means, but he’d be lying if he said that his company wasn’t something that he’d grown accustomed to and enjoyed. Zuko does what he does best, though, and sucks it up. He doesn’t tell Sokka to stop by and visit. In fact, he doesn’t even really say  _ goodbye _ to the other boy other than offering him a half-hearted wave and a “see you around,” when he leaves that morning.

So Zuko is surprised, to say the least, when that evening, just after Katara finishes their healing session and steps out of the infirmary with a soft,  _ “good night” _ , the door opens again not five minutes later, revealing Sokka’s smiling face. 

“Hey  _ your flamey-ness,” _ Sokka says with a lop-sided grin, leaning into the doorway but not quite stepping inside. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Zuko wants to reply with a snarky comment like,  _ “What the hell would you be interrupting? I can’t do anything.” _ But he’s so surprised to even  _ see _ Sokka in the infirmary again that he just gapes for a moment before shaking his head and muttering, “Uh… no.”

Eloquent.  _ Real _ eloquent. 

Regardless, Sokka takes that as his cue to burst through the door, moving as quickly as he can with his crutch. “Good, because I figured we could have some bro time!”

“Bro time?” Zuko asks incredulously, watching as Sokka crosses the room, then comes to a stop at the foot of his bed. He shifts slightly, pulling his legs up a bit so Sokka can sit. 

“Yeah,” Sokka says with a shrug, “I was bored, and I thought -”

Zuko raises an eyebrow, which causes Sokka to stop himself short, then restart. “Alright, I won’t lie. I kinda missed it in here.”

In return, Zuko snorts out a laugh. “You missed hanging out in the infirmary,” he deadpans. 

“Sure!” Sokka exclaims, “Y’know, with its…  _ beds, _ and its… medicine, and stuff.”

“Right,” Zukko teases, a smile pulling at his lips, “Beds and medicine and stuff.” 

Sokka flops backwards onto Zuko’s bed, perpendicular to his legs. “Alright, I’ll admit it. I missed hanging out.”

And  _ oh. _

So Zuko wasn’t the only one who enjoyed their late night talks, or the other boy’s company. He swallows. “Sokka, it has been one day.”

Sokka sits up slightly, glancing up at him. “Yeah, well, we have a lot to catch up on,” he explains, “After all, I’m your  _ inside man _ , now. I spent all day wandering around the palace.”

At  _ that _ Zuko can’t help the way that his eyes widen, even just slightly. “How is it out there?” he asks, his curiosity getting the better of him. The last time he had seen the  _ outside world,  _ he was battling his sister in a fucking Agni Kai on the day of the comet. So much has changed since then, and while Zuko knows that his uncle is likely doing an incredible job as interim Fire Lord, he can’t help but wonder what it’s like, now that the rest of the world knows that Ozai has fallen. 

Thankfully, Sokka is more than happy to tell Zuko  _ everything.  _

They stay up late talking, and by the time that their conversation comes to a lull, the sun has long since set and Zuko knows that it’s well past midnight. He wants to ask Sokka if he should be heading back to his own room, as he’s certain that his uncle gave him one, but he can’t bring himself to do so.

If he’s being honest, he kind of hopes that Sokka stays the night in the infirmary. He hasn’t slept in a room by himself since the comet, and he’d be lying if he said that the idea of it didn’t fill him with dread. Just being in the palace, even after everything that has happened, fills him with a sense of unease. It’s much easier to not think about when Sokka is here by his side, rambling about Fire Nation food or something that his uncle said that afternoon or Suki and Toph and -

“How are the others?” Zuko asks, realizing that he actually  _ hasn’t _ heard Sokka talk about the rest of his friends much.

He knows that with the help of his uncle and Aang, they were able to free the rest of the prisoners who were captured during the eclipse, but Sokka hasn’t really mentioned them since.

“Oh,” Sokka says on an exhale, as if he’s surprised that Zuko is asking about his friends. “They’re uh - they’re good. Some of the men from my tribe are already on their way home, but many of them are staying here, until my dad leaves. The others are here, as well. They seem to be okay, all things considered.” His voice takes on a more serious tone as he speaks.

Zuko frowns. “And how are  _ you?” _ he finds himself asking, and  _ spirits, _ it sounds just like something his uncle would say. 

Sokka shrugs. “I’m fine.” But when Zuko just fixes him with a long gaze, he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I’m okay,” he corrects. The next words all come out in a rush. “It’s just - it has been almost two weeks, and I can’t stop thinking about the day of the comet every time I see Toph or Suki. It’s like… every time I close my eyes, I can just see Toph _ hanging there. _ She looked so scared. And  _ Suki -  _ by then, I thought…”

He shakes his head. “Every time I see them, I still feel like I failed them, even though they’re okay. I dragged them into that mess and I was the reason that they almost died.”

_ Oh. _

It seems that, while eventful, Sokka’s first day outside of the infirmary brought back some unpleasant memories. No wonder he’s still sitting on Zuko’s bed now, long past midnight, with no immediate plans to retire for the evening. 

“Sokka,” Zuko murmurs, trying his best to keep his voice gentle and sincere, “You didn’t drag them into anything.”

“No?” Sokka asks, turning to look up at him, “If it weren’t for us literally barging into Suki and Toph’s lives, they wouldn’t have been involved in  _ any _ of this. Suki said it herself that we inspired her to get involved - to leave Kyoshi Island and help others. And I mean, we kind of asked Toph to be Aang’s earthbending master…” He shakes his head. “I know they’re okay now, and they can handle themselves just fine, but I’ve already lost too many people… the fact that I almost lost them, too… I dream about it nearly every night.”

_ Fuck. _

What is Zuko supposed to say to him? It’s not like he’s wrong. If it weren’t for the Avatar and his two friends coming into Suki and Toph’s lives, they’d probably still be safe in the comfort of their own respective homes, but at the same time, they’re both incredibly skilled fighters who are capable of making their own decisions, regardless of age. He’s sure that Sokka already knows this, though. He’s a brilliant kid. Rationally, he knows that he’s not solely responsible for his friends’ wellbeing. That won’t stop him from feeling guilty, though, just in the same way that Zuko still feels guilty about his mother leaving, about the way that his father treated him. The list goes on and on. 

Actually…

“I have dreams about my mom all the time,” Zuko admits quietly. He hopes that this comes off in the way that he intends for it to - that Sokka understands what he means. “I know deep down that it’s not my fault, but to this day, I still dream that she left because of me - that if I wasn’t around, she would still be here. That everything would be okay.”

Sokka sits up a little straighter, his eyes going wide at Zuko’s admission.  _ “Zuko…” _ he says gently, “You know that’s not the case, right?”

He meets Sokka’s gaze and offers him a small smile in return. It took  _ years _ for him to come to terms with it, but he knows that Sokka is right. 

“I know,” Zuko replies softly, “And I want  _ you _ to know that if anything  _ had _ happened to your friends, it wouldn’t be your fault.  _ Please _ don’t let the guilt consume you, Sokka.”

For a moment, the other boy doesn’t say anything. He just stares at Zuko, wide eyed, lips parted, as if unsure of what to say. Then, after what feels like forever, he nods shallowly. “I can’t promise anything,” he murmurs, “But I’ll try.”

“Good.” Zuko offers a smile of his own in return, and against his better judgement, he leans forward, reaching out to grab Sokka’s hand. At the contact, blue eyes meet gold and Zuko’s breath catches in his throat. 

When he comes back to himself, Zuko hears himself muttering, “If you uh - if you wanted to spend the night in here, I wouldn’t mind.”

The smile that spreads across Sokka’s face is dazzling. Zuko has to look away before he catches himself staring. “Good!” Sokka exclaims, his tone significantly brighter than it was just minutes ago, “Because you’re not getting rid of me that easily!”

And late that night, after Sokka has made himself at home in his old bed, he murmurs out into the darkness, voice soft and half-awake, “I’m glad we have each other. I know I won’t  _ always  _ be here, but -”

“We’ll  _ always _ have each other,” Zuko replies quietly before he can think about it, “I promise.”


	10. Chapter 10 - When It All Makes Sense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn’t planning on updating this quickly, but I went and watched the Supernatural finale and made myself sad (which is comical cause I haven’t actively watched that show in 5 years) so I figured I’d update this (also very sad) fic as a way to distract myself. That makes sense, right??
> 
> Anyway. Updates might become a little more spaced out for a little while after this with the holidays coming up (and because I’m still working through writing the second half of this fic) but more soon - I promise! 
> 
> I took some elements from the “Imbalance” comics to depict the tensions between benders and non-benders in this chapter. If you haven’t read them, you’ll definitely still be able to grasp the concept!
> 
> Strap in, friends. This is a heavy one.

_ And is there a God up there?  
So, where does He hide?  
'Cause the devil is raging inside my mind  
And is there a moment when it all makes sense?  
When saying goodbye, doesn't feel like the end? _

\- "[Amen](https://open.spotify.com/track/4rCmaUBsSjuiQcKoKIo7UE?si=F-wQUfHRSnuR2JAI9K7Hpw)" - Amber Run

* * *

Zuko feels numb. 

Even as he packs a bag and quickly gets ready to depart for Republic City, it doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real. He feels like he’s walking in a dream, Katara’s written words repeating like a mantra in his head, staring back at him every single time he closes his eyes. 

_ There was an incident involving Suki. _

Suki, the same girl who forgave him so easily over a decade ago, who didn’t think twice before putting their past behind her and placing all of her trust in Zuko, an angsty teenager with a quick fuse who had been hunting her friends and burning down her village less than a year prior. Suki, a non-bender who Zuko trusted with his life more than he trusted all of the firebending masters in the capital combined. Suki, who acted first and apologized later when she knew that Zuko needed help years ago, when his life was on the line. Suki, who time and time again managed to pull Zuko out of his shell, whether it was during late night talks or over dinner when her and Sokka came to visit or even in recent years, at Aang and Katara’s wedding, when she pulled him onto the dance floor with a laugh and a smile and a teasing,  _ “Come on, Fire Lord. Don’t tell me they didn’t teach you how to dance in the palace.” _

_ There was an incident involving Suki.  _

Zuko squeezes his eyes closed, but all he can see are Suki’s wide, youthful eyes staring right back at him, a playful smile spread across her face. 

Maybe Katara just misworded her letter.  _ There was an incident involving Suki. _ That part didn’t sound so bad - it was the words that followed it that left Zuko feeling like the floor had been ripped out from under him.

And now, he just feels numb.

_ She didn’t make it.  _

Zuko  _ wants _ to believe that he’s misreading the letter, that maybe, something got lost in translation. Maybe, that means something different in the South Pole. He knows that it’s wishful thinking, though. He might still be young, but he’s not naive enough to think that Katara just  _ accidentally _ misworded something of such importance.

No.

_ She didn’t make it. _

There’s no mistaking what that means, and over the years, Zuko has become good at compartmentalizing things, but  _ that… _ that’s enough to nearly make him crumble to his knees when he first reads it. It takes him a lot longer than he’d like to admit to gather himself and begin preparing for the trip to Republic City.

The flight from Caldera to Republic City is long, and even hours after he first reads them, Katara’s words eat away at him for the entirety of the trip. 

_ She didn’t make it. _

How was that even possible? Suki was quite possibly one of the most skilled fighters he ever knew. If  _ he _ had to face her one-on-one, he’s confident that he would lose. Hell, he’s fairly certain that many of the skilled fighters and master firebenders in the Fire Nation would lose against Suki. If he closes his eyes, he can still remember clear as day what it was like to fight alongside her at the Boiling Rock - how she made every movement and every strike seem effortless. She made the impossible seem possible. 

_ She didn’t make it. _

Zuko tries, and fails, to shake the thought from his head. 

No. He refuses to believe it until he sees it for himself, until he arrives in Republic City and speaks to Aang or Katara or  _ \- fuck -  _ even  _ Sokka _ in person. There’s no way that Suki is gone.  _ She can’t be. _

Zuko departs the Fire Nation the same evening that he receives the letter from Katara, and he arrives in Republic City a little over a day later, just as the sun is beginning to set over Yue Bay. The striking sight of the city’s skyline against the distant mountains, which once gave him a great sense of pride, feels dull and lifeless, now. Even painted with soft blues and purples and pinks as the sun begins to dip beyond the horizon, the sight of Republic City only fills him with dread. There’s something missing. The magic of the shining city that Zuko once thought of as a symbol of hope and growth and change, seems to have disappeared. 

_ There was an incident, involving Suki. She didn’t make it.  _

How was it that something that they worked so hard for - a bustling city where benders of all kinds and non-benders alike lived together in harmony - took someone so important from them? It doesn’t make sense, and as Zuko’s airship approaches the city, he struggles to find a way to reconcile the truth.

_ She didn’t make it. _

They  _ ended _ the 100 Year War, for Agni’s sake. The years that followed were supposed to be filled with peace and prosperity, happiness and  _ safety. _ Attending Aang and Katara’s wedding just a few years ago felt like the crowning achievement of all of their hard work - a sign that they  _ won.  _ That they didn’t need to live in fear anymore. 

Zuko realizes, though, as he gazes upon Republic City, that he was incredibly short sighted and naive to believe that they would be  _ safe _ forever. His father would probably mock him for it, call him weak and idealistic. 

And  _ hell,  _ maybe he  _ is _ weak and idealistic when compared to the leaders that came before him, but isn’t that a  _ good _ thing?

Apparently not.

Zuko shakes the thought from his head, taking a deep breath and steeling himself as he commands the captain to turn the ship towards Air Temple Island. 

He needs to see Aang and Katara.

* * *

By the time that Zuko is stepping down the gangplank and onto solid ground, the sun has all but set around him. The sky, which was once painted in soft pastels and warm reds, has transformed into a muted periwinkle and a deep navy as the sun disappears behind distant mountains. Even Air Temple Island - the quiet, vibrant little slice of paradise just off of the shores of Republic City - feels dull and lifeless. Could it be that the world senses a great loss? Do the spirits understand the gravity of what just happened? The importance of the person that was just taken from them? Or is it just a trick of the light, maybe just Zuko’s mind playing tricks on him?

Either way, as Zuko steps off of the airship and onto the shore, he can’t help but think back to one of the last times he visited Air Temple Island, just after Bumi was born. It had been springtime, and the island was bustling with activity, blooming with colorful flowers and filled with the sound of chatter and laughter. It felt  _ alive. _

The island doesn’t feel the same, now. 

As Zuko steps off of the airship, he gazes up at the steps before him, long and winding, leading up to the temple and Aang and Katara’s home and -

And as he looks up at the looming air temple before him, he spies a lone silhouette, standing stock-still about a third of the way up the steps, hair blowing slightly in the soft breeze. 

“Katara,” Zuko breathes, his voice raspy and thick with emotion. 

He’s not sure if she can hear him from where she stands, but regardless, the moment seems to break, and suddenly, Katara is moving. Although his body still feels numb with disbelief, Zuko takes a few steps forward as well, closing the distance between him and the waterbender until they collide in a tight, bone-crushing embrace at the bottom of the steps. 

Zuko doesn’t say anything. He  _ can’t _ say anything. Instead, he just hugs Katara tightly, squeezing his eyes shut, and he knows in that moment that there is no misunderstanding the contents of her letter - the letter folded in the inner breast pocket of Zuko’s tunic, that he can’t bring himself to touch or look at anymore, but he couldn’t just leave in the Fire Nation.

_ Suki is gone. _

The weight of the world comes crashing down around him as they embrace, and for a moment, Zuko feels like the weak, unsure, scared teenager that he once was, when he and Katara first met. This isn’t how it was supposed to go.  _ They ended the war.  _ There wasn’t supposed to be any more suffering. 

Of course, Zuko isn’t naive enough to believe that the world is perfect. Although they ended the war and brought a semblance of peace to the four nations, Zuko knows more than anyone that there is  _ always  _ more work to be done. The first five years following the end of the war were some of the most challenging, and in that time Zuko quickly came to understand that the world will never  _ truly _ be at peace - that it’s up to people like Aang and their friends and allies to try to keep the balance. 

He just didn’t think it would come to this.

And maybe that  _ is _ a little naive. Maybe they shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable. After years without assassination attempts and what seemed like some of the most prosperous and peaceful seasons across all of the nations, Zuko knows that he began to feel comfortable. He’s sure that the rest of his friends have felt the same at one point or another. So is that what happened? Did they get complacent? Did they forget about the dangers lurking around the corner? Did they forget that, although the war is over, they’ll never truly be at  _ peace? _

Zuko attempts to shake the thoughts from his head. There’s no use in worrying over what they could have done differently. He needs to be present here and now, if not for himself, but his friends. 

“Thank you for coming,” Katara finally murmurs against his shoulder, shattering the delicate silence between them. Her voice is disarmingly soft, and Zuko can’t help but feel surprised. He expected tears. He expected anger and frustration from the powerful bender who usually wears her heart on her sleeve. Instead, Katara sounds considerably more put together than he feels right now. Her voice doesn’t waver when she speaks. 

Zuko wishes that he could say the same for himself. 

“Of course,” he rasps. The pain is evident in his voice, and for a moment, he wonders just how long that he can get away with just  _ holding _ Katara like this, so she doesn't have to see the pain and confusion and anguish on his face, so he doesn’t completely break down the moment that she looks him in the eye. 

He’s not a scared little teenager anymore, though, so after a long moment, Zuko finally pulls away, his eyes coming to rest properly on Katara’s face for the first time in  _ too long _ as he holds her at arm’s length. Despite the steady tone of her voice, Zuko is surprised to see the open look of sorrow and pain etched all over Katara’s features once he finally gets a good look at her, and before he can reign in his  _ own _ emotions, he feels a pang of guilt in his gut at the sight. 

Katara knows intimately what it is like to lose someone that you love. At a young age, the Fire Nation took her mother away from her, and her entire life and outlook on the world was shaped drastically by that violent loss. Katara is no stranger to death and grief and pain.  _ None of them are,  _ really, but she knows it more intimately than most. 

It isn’t  _ fair, _ Zuko finds himself thinking, as he looks down at her. After so much pain and heartbreak, after struggling to find herself and finally coming to terms with the loss and even forgiving the man who took her mother from her, Katara is faced yet again with another crushing blow, this time in the loss of one of her best friends. Zuko has had his fair share of struggles in his lifetime as well, but he knows that he is luckier and  _ certainly _ more privileged than most. Although she was gone for the formative years of his life and their relationship will never be what it once was, Zuko still  _ has _ his mother. They defeated his father, but they didn’t  _ kill _ him. Hell, he even visits his sister from time to time, even if she often won’t speak to him. It’s a different kind of pain, of course, but at least Zuko still  _ has _ his family. Katara just lost yet another member of hers. 

“Katara, I -” he begins to say, unsure of  _ what _ exactly is even going to come out of his mouth, but before he can even form the words, she interrupts him. 

“Please. Let’s go inside,” she insists. If she can see the way that Zuko’s face is twisted up in pain and guilt and self-loathing, she doesn’t mention it. Instead, she just murmurs, “Aang will be happy to see you.”

The bright, warm interior of Aang and Katara’s home is a stark contrast to the muted colors of twilight and the somber mood that carries up the steps and through the front door. Zuko and Katara don’t speak much as they make their way inside - just quiet small talk - but the second that they step through the front door, Zuko is ambushed by a bubbly, chattering toddler with wild hair and an even wilder grin. 

_ “Uncle Zuko!” _

For a split second, the somber mood dissipates as Zuko quickly scoops up Bumi, putting on a cheerful face. 

“Hi Bumi,” Zuko says with a smile, swinging his nephew  _ (nephew, _ because as Aang said to Zuko early on, he was  _ family _ to them) easily into his arms, “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you! Did you miss me?”

Bumi nods enthusiastically against him, his smile unwavering. “Uh-huh! Did you bring me any presents from the Fire Nation?”

_ “Bumi!” _ Katara interjects in a scandalized tone, but the toddler shows no remorse as he looks expectantly up at Zuko. 

“You know…” Zuko muses, shifting Bumi into one arm as he reaches into his breast pocket. He schools his features as his fingers brush a folded piece of parchment before encircling a small sack of snacks that he brought specifically for the small child. He leans in close to speak in a hushed voice, as if telling a secret, “I  _ technically _ brought these for your father, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Zuko passes the bag to Bumi, who squeals in delight.  _ “Fire gummies!” _

He can practically  _ feel  _ Katara rolling her eyes at him, but the sight of Bumi’s bright, wide smile is worth it. For a fleeting moment, Zuko finds himself thinking that everything they’ve done - it was all worth it, if just to be able to hold the son of the last waterbender of the Southern Water Tribe and the last airbender in his arms. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat from the other side of the room shakes Zuko from his uncharacteristically hopeful thoughts. When he glances up, it’s to meet Aang’s warm gaze. 

“Don’t tell your father, or he’ll make you share,” Zuko whispers to Bumi before setting him down, and the small child takes off running into the next room over, Katara hot on his heels. Zuko’s eyes never leave Aang’s, though. 

_ Aang, _ the once bubbly and optimistic twelve year-old turned mature, powerful and charismatic young adult.  _ Aang, _ who Zuko loves as his own brother (and technically, they  _ are _ related). 

Aang, who offers Zuko a small, sad smile before crossing the room and wrapping him in a tight embrace, reminiscent of the one that Zuko just shared with Katara outside. 

“I’m glad to see you,” Aang murmurs against him, and for the first time since reading Katara’s letter, Zuko feels tears threatening to prick at his eyes. He squeezes them shut and attempts to ground himself, just as he did when he first read those terrible, heartbreaking words. Just as he did when he first saw Katara waiting for him. And just as he did when he imagined how Sokka must be feeling right now. 

Zuko swallows the lump forming in his throat, bites back the tears and replies hoarsely, “It’s good to see you, Aang.”

They don’t discuss the specifics of what exactly happened until late that night, long after dinner and just shortly after Katara and Aang have put Bumi and Kya to bed. Zuko insists that he can stay at the embassy in Republic City, but Aang and Katara are quick to open their home to not only him, but his small crew and guards who traveled from Caldera, and frankly… Zuko doesn’t argue as hard as he should. Honestly, he wants to be around his friends. His  _ family. _

So it’s late - only one of Zuko’s close guards remains posted just outside the front door of the house - when Zuko finally finds himself seated around the table with Katara and Aang, legs crossed, nursing a cup of his uncle’s blend of Jasmine tea. (Aang brought it home from his most recent trip to Ba Sing Se, of course, and it brings a sense of normalcy and calm to what promises to be a difficult discussion.) Zuko isn’t necessarily  _ ready _ to talk about it - he’s not sure that he will ever be - but once it’s late and they’ve already caught up on  _ everything else, _ there’s only one subject left to breach. 

“Can I - may I ask what happened?” Zuko finally manages to ask. His voice sounds small even to his own ears, and he’s sure that Katara and Aang can both hear and see how this is affecting him, just as he can see how it has affected them. Honestly, he  _ doesn’t _ want to know the details. He wants to close his eyes and pretend it didn’t happen, but unfortunately, he’s not that lucky.

As Katara had mentioned in her brief letter - the one that still sits in Zuko’s breast pocket, heavier than any piece of parchment should  _ ever _ be - the  _ incident _ in question was the result of months and months of building tension between benders and non-benders in Republic City. Zuko and his cabinet have been keeping a close eye on the events that have been unfolding in the city for the better part of a year, ready to lend a hand if and when it was needed, but as Aang said  _ multiple times _ , both in person at the occasional meeting in Caldera, or even via letter, it was a delicate situation that would only be made worse by outside intervention. 

Ever since its formation following the end of the war, Republic City has been built on the foundation of _balance._ First, it was the balance between spirits and humans, as business owners and large corporations began building factories on what once was considered sacred ground. Then, as the city grew and flourished, it became a _beacon_ of balance, blending the traditions and cultures of all four nations into a melting pot of harmony and peace. It’s why Aang and Katara ultimately decided to settle down and start their family just outside the city.

Lately, however, the balance of Republic City has been threatened by growing tensions between benders and non benders. As Aang explained nearly a year ago, when the subject first came up during a meeting, and as he explains  _ now,  _ sitting around the table long after the sun has gone down, in a quiet voice so as not to wake his children, the benders within the city feel that business owners are trying to shut them out of jobs within their factories by automating many of their production lines with machines that non-benders can easily operate, thus paying non-benders less to do the same job. Meanwhile, the non-benders feel as though the benders of the city use their bending to oppress and bully others, and that it’s about damn time the tides turned in their favor. Both are right and wrong in their own ways (and in Zuko’s opinion, the businesses are the  _ real _ villains here) which has made dealing with the situation difficult and unprecedented. Lately, the growing rift between benders and non-benders has been met with violent clashes between the two groups. 

As Aang explains, the  _ incident _ occurred when he, Katara and Sokka were making a trip to the North Pole for their annual cultural and spirit festival. 

“We shouldn’t have left, with tensions running so high,” Aang admits, hanging his head as he tells his version of the story, “We should have known better -”

_ “Sweetie,” _ Katara interrupts with a gentle hand on his arm and an even gentler tone of voice, “We had no way of knowing.”

She then turns to Zuko to explain, “The city’s police force and the Kyoshi Warriors have been working together and doing a good job of keeping things under control so far, but…” she sighs, “We’ve just never dealt with something like this before. We didn’t  _ know _ …”

Zuko swallows hard, understanding. After Suki and the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors left the Fire Nation, some of them went back home to be with their families or those they cared about, but  _ many _ of them, including Ty Lee, continued to travel with Suki, going wherever they were needed most. After all, the Kyoshi Warriors had become a symbol of hope throughout the final year of the war and the many years that followed. Many people looked to them for help and guidance, just like they looked to the Avatar of their namesake. Sokka had mentioned in previous letters that he was excited to learn that Suki would be staying in the city for the foreseeable future, and Zuko had been  _ happy _ for him. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like, being away from your significant other for so long. 

Zuko can empathize with the way that both Katara and Aang must be feeling right now. They feel as if they let their city, and of course, their friend down by leaving when they were needed the most, but as Zuko’s uncle told him years ago, during the height of his assassination attempts:

_ “You must be careful, nephew, but you mustn't let fear dictate your actions.” _

Of course back then, Iroh had been referencing Zuko’s hesitance of passing important legislature while the New Ozai Society was seemingly constantly trying to hunt him down, but the fact remains - Katara, Aang and Sokka couldn’t let the tensions in Republic City stop them from living their lives. In any other circumstance, it probably would have been  _ good _ for them to get away for a week or two to enjoy the festival at the North Pole. They had no way of knowing what was going to happen while they were gone. 

So, before Aang or Katara can continue the story, he speaks up. “This is new territory for  _ all _ of us,” he says in a gentle, understanding tone. 

_ “Yeah,” _ Katara breathes, deflating with the single syllable. After a few moments to collect herself, she picks up the story where Aang left off. 

“We were - we had only been at the North Pole for two days before the news reached us…” As she speaks, the calm tone that she had when she greeted Zuko outside just a few hours ago dissipates. Now, her voice sounds raw and choked. It’s still a fresh wound, and even Katara, always so cool under pressure, cracks. “There was an altercation between a group of non-benders and some benders who worked at the same factory. From what we understand, someone tipped off the police that there was going to be an attack on an area of the city mostly inhabited by firebenders.”

Katara pauses, closing her eyes. The next words come out just above a whisper. “Suki and a handful of the Kyoshi Warriors were the first on the scene.”

Zuko feels his chest constrict at Katara’s words. Suddenly, he  _ doesn’t _ want to know all of the details. He doesn’t want to know  _ how _ it happened. None of that matters, because Suki is  _ gone,  _ and he knows what comes next in this story. 

“There was an explosion,” Aang chokes out, breaking the sudden silence, “Rigged by a group of non-benders. The building was already collapsing by the time Suki arrived, but from what we understand, people were still trapped inside. She - she went in to help, and - and -”

Aang doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t. A sob overtakes him, and suddenly Katara is by his side, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

The room goes quiet for a few minutes, as Katara comforts Aang and Zuko processes the information. Suki had just been trying to  _ help _ others, as she  _ always _ has. The altercation didn’t even  _ involve _ her, or her people, or even her friends, but that didn’t matter. It  _ never _ mattered to her. She always just wanted to  _ help. _

And now she’s gone. 

And, just like that, the tears that Zuko had been holding back ever since he first read Katara’s letter finally spill out. 

* * *

Zuko can’t sleep.

How could he? Even after his conversation with Katara and Aang, he still has so many unanswered questions, so much still feels unresolved. Unfinished. He can’t bring himself to ask if those responsible have yet been brought to justice, afraid of the possibility that the monsters who did this are still out there, free, roaming the streets with no remorse. 

Zuko is also afraid of what he might do, if that were the case.

Nobody deserved what happened. Not the innocent people who got caught in the crossfire, and  _ certainly _ not Suki. And as he lays in bed that night, Zuko isn’t sure which emotion he feels more strongly - sorrow, or rage. 

Sorrow, because someone like Suki deserved to outlive  _ all _ of them. Because she never asked to be part of the war, but joined it anyway, after Aang and Katara and Sokka inspired her to use her strength to help others. Because everything she did, she did out of kindness and compassion, not because of duty or a forced loyalty to any side. Suki deserved a happy, quiet life, where she and Sokka could settle down and have some kids who would grow up with not one, but two incredible role models, who would have Sokka’s sense of humor and brilliant mind and Suki’s strength and compassion.

And he feels  _ rage, _ because they  _ all _ worked  _ so fucking hard _ to stop his father, to bring peace to the four nations and to create a place as inclusive and diverse as Republic City, and  _ for what? _ For one of their own to be struck down long before her time just because some angry benders and non-benders couldn’t resolve their problems non-violently? For Agni’s sake, Aang managed to take down Ozai without violence, so what the fuck was  _ their _ excuse? He feels  _ rage _ because the people who did this to Suki need to be brought to justice, and if they haven't yet, then Zuko may just have to bring justice to  _ them. _

Late that night, the sorrow and rage and cripping  _ pain _ seizing inside of Zuko’s chest has him sitting straight up in bed, unable to close his eyes without being haunted by images of Suki, calling out for help when none of her friends were coming. Suki, lightning quick and deadly at the Boiling Rock, and knowing thata they probably wouldn’t have made it out without her skill and precision. Suki, hoisting him up after an assassination attempt and speaking to him in calm, hushed tones that grounded him and reminded him that  _ he was stil alive. _

_ Suki, _ flashing him a soft smile as they sit side by side in the gardens on a cool summer night, as she asks,  _ “ _ _ You realize that we’re  _ _ friends  _ _ now, right Zuko?” _

Zuko hoists himself up and out of bed, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic in Aang and Katara’s small guest bedroom. Quickly and quietly, he dresses and throws on a pair of shoes, then slips out into the dark hallway. Maneuvering past his guard and out into the courtyard is easy when Zuko knows Katara and Aang’s home as well as he does, and before long, he’s walking toward the water, toward the beach and hopefully, toward some sense of peace. 

Laying awake, alone with his thoughts was  _ suffocating, _ but as soon as he is outside, Zuko feels like he can breathe a little easier. The cool air and ocean breeze is calming, and before long, he has almost made it down to the beach.

And that’s when he spies him. 

Just off to the side of the staircase that leads down to the docks and Zuko’s airship, sitting atop a rock outcropping and illuminated by a nearly full moon, is Aang, gazing out at the calm water below.

For a moment, Zuko thinks of turning around and heading back up to the house. He considers leaving Aang to his thoughts, as he obviously came out here to be alone, but after just a moment’s hesitation, he decides against it.

A decade ago, Zuko might have insisted that Aang needed to be alone, that he shouldn’t disturb him, but he knows better now. The airbender doesn’t appear to be meditating, and Zuko knows that now, more than ever, they need _each other._ _None of them_ should be alone right now, himself included. So, with a deep, steadying breath, Zuko veers off the main path and calls out softly to Aang, letting his presence be known. 

_ “Hey.” _

It’s short and simple and if Aang  _ doesn’t _ want him here, he’ll let him know, but Zuko can’t just let him sit there by himself. 

Unsurprisingly, the airbender doesn’t appear annoyed or taken aback by Zuko’s presence. Surprised, maybe, but not unapproachable. 

_ “Zuko,” _ he breathes, a small smile falling onto his lips. He shifts, motioning for the firebender to join him, and Zuko takes the invitation, climbing with ease onto the rock outcropping until he’s seated alongside Aang. 

For a moment, neither man says anything. They don’t need to. Over a decade into their friendship, Zuko and Aang know each other better than most. They’ve grown up together. They’ve saved the world together. Their friendship is unshakable, and Zuko feels grateful in this moment that he has someone like Aang. He doesn’t know where he’d be if he didn’t.  _ Hell, _ he probably wouldn’t even be alive.

They sit together in silence for a few long minutes as Zuko follows Aang’s gaze out over the calm waters of Yue bay, aptly named after the way that the pale moonlight reflects in the water on a clear night like this one. Without a cloud in the sky, it’s easy to see for miles, and Zuko’s gaze is naturally drawn to the twinkling lights of Republic City after dark. The skyline, which once filled him with hope and pride, feels tainted now. 

Zuko shakes that thought from his head and softly, quiet enough that it would get carried away by the wind if the night weren’t so mild, Zuko murmurs, “Beautiful night.”

Aang hums in response, but his eyes never leave the bay. “It is.”

As Zuko watches Aang, he can’t help the way that his thoughts drift back to the same dark place that they had been earlier, when he first saw Katara. Like her, Aang has already been through so much in his short life. By the time that Zuko met him when he was only twelve, he had not only lost his friends and the monks who raised him - his only form of  _ family - _ but he had entirely lost his  _ people, _ the other airbenders. Time and violence had already taken  _ so much _ from Aang at such a young age, and even now, during the most peaceful period of time that the world has seen in one hundred years, Aang has lost another friend, another member of his found family. And as Zuko sits by his side, watching the way that he gazes out over the water, as if looking for an answer, he can’t help but think, not for the first time, that it should have been him. If anyone was supposed to leave this world at a young age, it was him. After all, his own father said he was lucky to be born.

Shaking  _ those _ intrusive thoughts from his head, Zuko turns his attention to Aang, because  _ this isn’t about him, _ damn it. It’s about the people who  _ need  _ him. 

Before Zuko can talk himself out of it, he clears his throat and asks softly, “How are you holding up?”

It’s a stupid question, in retrospect, and Zuko cringes at himself when he asks it, but he also wants Aang to know that it’s safe for him to talk about how he’s feeling. He doesn’t always have to be the source of strength and hope. Zuko knows this more than anyone. 

“I -” Aang starts, then stops, his eyes still fixed on the scene in front of them, like everything will come shattering down around them if he looks away. He takes a deep breath, then mutters, “It’s stupid, but in times like this, I still feel like a helpless kid, you know?”

Finally, Aang  _ does _ tear his gaze away from the moonlit bay and the city skyline and  _ looks _ at Zuko. His eyes, always so telling, are filled to the brim with emotion. “I feel the same way I did after I first woke up in the iceberg,” Aang continues, “Like if I would have been there, I could have stopped it. None of this -”

_ “Stop,” _ Zuko cuts him off before he can finish because he doesn’t want to hear any more. He doesn’t  _ want _ Aang to finish that thought, because he  _ shouldn’t _ have it. After countless heart-to-hearts and late night talks over the years, Zuko knows that Aang still partially blames himself for the death of his people, even though rationally, he knows that he likely would have perished as well. So it isn’t a surprise to hear that he blames himself for Suki’s death as well, but it’s the  _ last _ thing that Zuko wants to hear, because it couldn’t be further from the truth. “You can’t talk like that.” 

“I know,” Aang admits with a sigh, “It’s just hard... After all this time, you’d think we’d finally have some peace, but -”

“It’s hard to maintain,” Zuko finishes with a knowing nod. Before he knows what’s happening, the words are flowing from him, “But look at how much  _ good _ you’ve done, Aang. I know it’s not what you want to hear right now, but there will always be bad in this world. You can’t stop it. You just have to try to make the good outshine it.”

“I know that you’re right, but it just doesn’t feel like it’s enough right now,” Aang mutters, turning to look out over the water once more. 

“You had no way of knowing,” Zuko insists gently. He knows where Aang’s mind is going right now, and it’s not a pretty place. He needs to remind him that this isn’t his fault. “If  _ any _ of us would have known, we would have been there in a heartbeat. You know that.  _ Suki _ knew that.”

At that, Aang turns to look at him again, a small, sad smile falling on his lips, and what he says next takes Zuko by surprise. “You’ve been spending too much time around Sokka.”

Zuko can’t help the way his eyes widen slightly at Aang’s words, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” he asks.

And in return, Aang just huffs out a quiet laugh. “Just… what you said. It sounds like something that he would have told me.”

Zuko can’t help but chuckle softly as well. “He  _ does _ give good advice…”

In the next silence that falls between them, Zuko’s mind wanders to Sokka. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been thinking about the other man since he received the news about Suki. Although he had hoped to see him upon arriving on Air Temple Island, he wasn’t surprised by his absence. He can only imagine what Sokka is going through right now. The feelings that he harbors for the other man aside, his heart aches for him. They were  _ all _ close with Suki and they all loved her like a sister, but not in the way that  _ Sokka _ loved her. 

Zuko swallows, then, before he can talk himself out of it, he asks, “How  _ is _ Sokka handling -”

“Not well,” Aang cuts him off before he can even get the question out, his face falling with his words.  “He - he wanted to be left alone, which I understand, but Katara is… she’s  _ so _ worried about him. She’s barely been sleeping - I think today wore her out enough that she finally went to bed at a reasonable hour. Ty Lee and some of the others have been keeping an eye on Sokka, though.”

Zuko isn’t surprised to learn that Sokka isn’t handling it well. As he sits with Aang, gazing out over Yue bay over a nearly full moon, he recalls one of the first times he and Sokka actually spoke to each other civilly, when they were on their way to the Boiling Rock.

_ “My first girlfriend turned into the moon.” _

Although at the time, Sokka said it in a somewhat lighthearted, joking tone, Zuko knows now how much the loss of Yue affected him. Zuko had  _ been there _ that night. Learning after the fact that a girl his age gave her life to save the moon spirit had been  _ jarring _ to say the least. Learning later that it was someone that Sokka loved hurt even more. Now, Suki has been added to the list of people that Sokka has lost - people that he couldn’t protect - and Zuko knows long before he even sees the other man that it will take a lifetime for him to come to terms with this. 

He doesn’t vocalize that to Aang, though. He’s sure that he understands in his own way. Instead, Zuko just keeps his eyes trained on the moon, hoping and praying that Sokka is okay while he hums and murmurs, “If there’s anything I can do… anything at all…”

He only turns when he feels a hand come to rest on his forearm, and when he does, it’s to face Aang’s steady, earnest gaze. 

“Thank you, Zuko,” he says quietly, “You’re a great friend.”

Deep down, there’s still a small part of Zuko that wants to argue that he  _ isn’t  _ all that great, that he doesn’t deserve people like Aang and Katara and Toph and Sokka and  _ \- spirits -  _ even Suki in his life, but over the years, he has gotten good at burying and ignoring that little voice in his head. He knows that if Suki  _ were _ here, she’d kick his ass for even entertaining the thought, so after a moment, with a small smile, Zuko rises, offering his hand to Aang. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, “We should get some rest.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although this chapter was sad as fuck, I really loved writing it because I got to write some interactions between Zuko, Aang and Katara. (Also baby Bumi!!!) Just a forewarning, the next one is gonna be pretty heavy as well. 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking this out with me. 
> 
> Also if you ever feel like yelling at me or just wanna chat, feel free to hit me up on [Tumblr](https://thefangirlingdead.tumblr.com).


	11. Chapter 11 - This Life, This Love Is Brief

_ Now when I'm face to face with death, I'll grab his throat  
And ask him, "How does it hurt?"  
Up in those golden moments, growin' old too quickly  
Was he thinkin' of her? _

_ But she's bringin' the moon and stars to me  
Damn permanent reverie  
And even though this life, this love is brief  
I've got some people who carry me _

\- "[For Island Fires And Family](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Rk9OCPLRprxsMmYgnU1UF?si=6SYWCItmRZKuWWd6vOLsiA)" - Dermot Kennedy

* * *

The funeral comes and goes in a haze. 

Two days after Zuko arrives in Republic City, he departs once more, this time headed for Kyoshi Island, and at sunset, the funeral takes place on the very shores of the small town that he once nearly burnt to the ground in search of the Avatar. Zuko realizes, as he listens to some of Suki’s peers speak during the intimate service, that he hasn’t returned since then. Shortly after the war ended, one of the first things that Zuko did was make amends for all of his mistakes, which included sending money and supplies to Kyoshi Island so that they could rebuild, but he realizes, as he watches the sun set behind a small crowd of close friends, fellow Kyoshi Warriors and found family, that he hasn’t been back to the island since the first time he stepped foot on it as an angry, confused teenager. 

He’s sure that if Suki were here, she’d tease him mercilessly about it. But she’s not here, and instead, Toph sits at his side, clutching his hand like a lifeline. 

And it doesn’t feel right.

It doesn’t feel right that the first time that he takes in the sight of Kyoshi Island, rebuilt stronger and better than ever, that he’s doing so because Suki  _ isn’t  _ here anymore. It doesn’t feel right that he hasn’t spared a long weekend to visit the home of one of his closest friends - someone who he literally trusted with his life. Suki spent  _ years _ in the Fire Nation, ensuring Zuko’s safety, and Zuko couldn’t even pay her a visit until they were putting her in the ground?  _ Pathetic.  _

He tries not to dwell on  _ those _ thoughts, though. He’s sure that, if his uncle were able to make it, he’d be able to see the guilt and self-loathing written all over his face, and he’d assure him that those things never mattered to someone like Suki. He  _ also _ knows that Suki was also one of the first people to reassure him that he was doing the right thing and one of the first people to offer her friendship when he felt painfully alone in the palace. Needless to say, she’d be frustrated to know that Zuko spent this day beating himself up over what he didn’t do and what he couldn't change. So instead, he takes a deep breath, clears his head, and squeezees Toph’s hand back. 

The hardest part, he thinks, as he listens to Suki’s close friends (including a teary-eyed Aang and even Sokka) speak, is the fact that they made it through  _ so much _ together, only for it to end like this. It  _ wasn’t _ supposed to happen like this. Suki wasn’t supposed to  _ die, _ not after everything they’ve been through. After the war, they were all supposed to live long, happy lives. Suki was supposed to stick around to train the next round of Kyoshi Warriors. She was supposed to find peace and happiness after the war. Her and Sokka were supposed to settle down… start a life together and have a few witty, strong-willed and unruly children. 

It wasn’t supposed to end like this, and as Zuko listens to Sokka make a brief speech, cut off quickly when he can’t quite get the words out, he finds that the feeling is worse than any near death experience he has ever had. He’d take someone nearly slitting his throat to the pain of losing a good friend too soon  _ any _ day. 

Aside from Lu Ten, Zuko has been privileged enough to make it through the majority of his life without losing anyone he truly loves or cares about. His mother, despite the trauma that her disappearance caused and how it affected him later on in life, doesn’t count, considering the fact that she’s alive and well back home in the Fire Nation. The same can be said for his father and Azula, as well. Zuko has a complicated relationship with his family, and he knows that when his father eventually passes, he will likely feel pained and conflicted about it, but nothing could compare to the way that he feels  _ now. _

He can only imagine how Sokka feels. Suki was a close friend, like a sister to Zuko, but to Sokka… she was  _ everything.  _ As he watches the other man take a seat with his head in his hands, his sister wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders, Zuko knows that Sokka will never be the same after this. He might recover over time, and maybe one day, he might even be able to move on, but he’ll never be the same. 

And the worst part is, there’s nothing they can do about it. There’s nothing that he can do or say to make things right. 

However, as Zuko sits, watching the sun set over the group of friends and family gathered on Kyoshi Island to remember Suki, he resolves to do whatever he can to make things easier, if not for himself, but for his friends. He already spent so much of his time doing harm to them and the rest of the world, and without someone like Suki around,  _ someone _ is going to need to pick up the slack.

* * *

Zuko  _ should _ go home after the funeral. 

He should pay his respects, spend a few days with his friends, then suck it up, bury it all deep down like he does with everything else, and go back to Caldera City because  _ he has an entire nation to run _ and he doesn’t have the time to grieve like everyone else. He should compartmentalize it and deal with it when he can, late at night when he’s alone in his chambers, where he can break down without anyone seeing. He  _ should _ do all of those things, but he…  _ doesn’t.  _

A few days go by, then a week, and before he knows it, it has been two weeks since he first arrived in Republic City, and Zuko has no return date in mind. At first, he tells himself it’s because his friends need him. Then, he reasons that it’s the right thing to do.  _ Toph _ even stays despite the fact that she has metalbending students waiting for her back home, insisting that she isn’t leaving until those who are responsible are caught, even if it means  _ “joining the pathetic excuse of a police force to get the job done,” _ and who would  _ Zuko _ be if he left when everyone else was staying behind to help? So he writes to his uncle, informing him of his plan to remain in Republic City for as long as he is needed, and his uncle quickly writes back, telling him to take all the time he needs. 

And just like that, nearly a month goes by, and Zuko is  _ still  _ in Republic City. 

Time works differently when you’re grieving, when it feels like the world has stopped spinning around you. In the blink of an eye, a week passes, then two, then three, then four, and in some ways, Zuko still feels the same that he did when he first stepped foot on Air Temple Island after he received the news. 

Hopeless. Directionless. Like the rug was just ripped from under his feet.

But he’s  _ trying.  _

For the first few weeks, Zuko helps out around Air Temple Island in an attempt to make himself useful. When Katara eventually begins shooting him curious looks when he offers to watch Bumi and Kya for the millionth time, he decides that maybe, he should find another way to help. After that, he begins spending more time with Toph, discussing and revising the law enforcement reform that she’s planning on proposing to the council within the month over lunches and dinners and late nights in her room at the embassy. When he exhausts himself there, too, Zuko uncharacteristically even offers to sit in on a few council meetings because  _ why the fuck not. _ It’s stupid, really. He hates taking long, political meetings back home in the Fire Nation, and they’re really no different in Republic City - maybe a little less old fashioned, but still filled with stuffy old men nonetheless - but  _ he’s trying to help, _ damn it. 

He refuses to admit that maybe, it’s because he doesn’t want to go home. Because once he goes home, he’ll have to move on. Because eventually, there will come a point in his life where Suki has been gone longer than she was even  _ on _ this earth, and Zuko doesn’t want to rush to get there. He doesn’t want to go home and let things return to normal, because they’re  _ not _ fucking normal, they’ve never  _ been _ normal, and they’re never going to  _ be _ normal again.

That, and it has been an entire month, yet he hasn’t even spoken to Sokka. 

Okay, they spoke  _ once,  _ just after the funeral, but it was stilted and awkward and  _ painful. _ Zuko didn’t realize, until he was face to face with Sokka, that he couldn’t even remember the last time he saw him, and there he was, looking right at him, trying to form the words to express how _ sorry _ he was and how much Suki was loved, and how much she loved  _ him,  _ but he  _ couldn’t. _ Instead, all he could muster up was a raspy,  _ “I’m so sorry, Sokka.”  _ The other man had thanked him, but by that point in the day, he was obviously exhausted both emotionally and physically, and the last thing that Zuko wanted to do was force him into some form of awkward conversation if he didn’t have to. 

So he didn’t push things, and he  _ hasn’t _ pushed things for the past month. Zuko has been through enough in his relatively short life to understand that everyone grieves differently, and the last thing that he wants to do is bombard Sokka while he’s still mourning Suki in his own way. Katara and Aang have been checking in with him regularly, and from what they’ve said, he’s doing as well as he  _ can,  _ given the circumstances. That’s all that Zuko can hope for. 

So, instead of bombarding his best friend in an attempt to assure him that he has people who love him and care for him, Zuko busies himself by trying to make use of his time in Republic City. He doesn’t have a set date for when he plans on returning to the Fire Nation, and Aang and Katara either enjoy his company or are polite enough not to pester him about it because they understand that everyone copes in different ways. 

Zuko’s way just happens to involve diving deep into local politics. Which, if someone would have told him five years ago that _ this  _ is where he’d find himself on his own accord, he would have called them crazy. Now, however, Zuko feels as if he has a duty to help resolve the issues between the benders and non-benders in Republic City before he goes home, if not for himself, then for Suki.  _ Suki, _ who would have devoted her every waking moment to ensuring that Republic City was safe and equal and peaceful. Suki, who _ died _ ensuring the safety of people she never even met. 

Zuko is sure that if a therapist had their way with him, they’d have something to say about his residual guilt for how he treated Suki and her people when they first met and the way that he tends to overcompensate to make up for his family’s mistakes, but frankly, he doesn’t care. 

At first, he tells himself that he’s attending the council meetings in an effort to keep himself busy and useful. Then, he reasons that it only makes sense - Sokka is still out, understandably grieving the loss of his partner, so Zuko will happily fill his seat while he is gone. And after a little under half a dozen meetings, he begins to tell himself that he just can’t reasonably  _ leave _ without bringing a resolution to the council. Even  _ Toph _ ends up accompanying him to a few meetings, and although her blunt, straightforward and sometimes even crass comments earn a few raised eyebrows from the older members of the council, she actually brings quite a few relevant issues and concerns to the table, specifically regarding reform and proper training within the city’s law enforcement. 

(“If you can’t train them yourselves, then give them two weeks with me. I’ll whip those lily livers into shape,” Toph had remarked before storming out of her most recent meeting.)

So Zuko  _ stays _ in Republic City with no departing date in sight, because he feels like they’re actually  _ getting some work done, _ and right now,  _ they _ need him more than the Fire Nation does. What he doesn’t expect, however, upon stepping into city hall for his sixth council meeting, is to find the empty space on the opposite side of the room, usually flanked by a representative for the Northern Water Tribe and Omashu’s representative, to be filled for the first time in weeks. 

When Zuko steps into the council room, prepared to have another long discussion surrounding equality and reform within the city’s factories and workplaces, he finds himself stopping dead in his tracks, locking eyes with none other than Sokka from across the room.  _ Sokka _ , who Zuko hasn’t seen  _ once _ since Suki’s funeral. Sokka, who hasn’t attended a single council meeting since her death, and who the council safely assumed would not be returning for the foreseeable future, is currently sitting at his usual place in the council room, dressed in casual Water Tribe robes, features schooled and hardened, challenging  _ anyone _ within the room to question his presence in the meeting. 

Of course, nobody does. If anyone  _ had _ attempted to speak to Sokka or assure him that his presence wasn’t required, the conversation likely ended swiftly, long before Zuko stepped foot in the room. 

As the last to arrive for the meeting, Zuko takes his seat across from Sokka, and after a long, painful moment of silence and surprised, yet loaded eye contact, the meeting begins. 

As the head of the council begins the meeting, referencing the content from the week prior and quickly filling in the gaps for Sokka when necessary, Zuko tries his damndest  _ not _ to stare at the man -  _ his best friend _ \- sitting across from him, but he can’t help the way his gaze drifts to him from time to time. Although Zuko hasn’t  _ seen _ Sokka since the funeral, he  _ has _ kept up with him, albeit through Aang or Katara or sometimes even Toph, who has taken to sitting outside of his house and loudly talking at him until he lets her in. Zuko isn’t as pushy or persistent as the others. Although he knows that Sokka needs his friends’ support now more than ever, he also knows better than to force Sokka into  _ talking about his feelings _ or even seeing someone if he doesn’t want to. So, when Sokka still hadn’t returned to any of the council meetings, Zuko safely assumed that he needed his space and was glad to give it to him.

But now, with Sokka sitting across from him in the council room, watching and listening to the head of Republic City’s council speak with his full attention, Zuko can’t help but wonder if he made the right choice. Should he have reached out to Sokka sooner? Should he have joined Toph outside his bedroom window, coaxing him to talk even when he didn’t want to? Sure, Sokka looks put together right now, but Zuko knows the other man well enough to know that he  _ isn’t _ okay. The dark circles under his eyes, barely concealed beneath a subtle layer of makeup, say as much. 

As Zuko watches Sokka from across the room, he feels like a poor student, distracted in class instead of paying attention to his instructor. Voices blend together to create a dull murmur of sound, and he  _ does _ catch much of what they’re saying, but he can’t help the way that his thoughts drift. Have the others filled him in on the content of these meetings? Did Toph go to him after the last one, ranting and raving about the council’s resistance to reform their law enforcement? Does he know what he’s getting himself into? How this meeting might trigger some not so pleasant feelings? Will he need someone to talk to afterwards? 

Zuko doesn’t have the chance to  _ ask _ any of those questions, though, because before long, the council eventually stops dancing around the elephant-mouse in the room and begins to tackle the subject of restoring harmony between the benders and non-benders of Republic City. The fact of the matter is, the benders of Republic City feel as if they’ve been discriminated against by business owners who would rather replace a bender with a non-bender to operate a machine that does twice the work in half the time. Although he wants nothing more than to watch Sokka, to make sure he’s okay, Zuko knows that it’s his place to speak up during the meeting, and he does, suggesting that maybe, the city could offer companies a monetary incentive to hire a workforce of 50% benders and 50% non-benders to create an equal workforce. The conversation then delves into the budgeting of such an incentive, and quickly, a debate ensues. 

“While it is admittedly a great idea, Fire Lord - and I’m sure the other members of the business council wouldn’t argue with a…  _ monetary _ incentive - what if reforming the factories  _ doesn’t _ resolve the issue?” One of the representatives from the city’s business council asks near the end of the meeting. Zuko can’t be bothered to remember the older man’s name, and right now, he honestly doesn’t want to see his  _ face _ anymore. How dare he ask such a question?  _ Of course _ it’ll resolve the issue -  _ that’s _ what started it in the first place!

But before Zuko has a chance to open his mouth and say as such, the representative from Ba Sing Se speaks up. “Mr. Sheng, with all due respect,  _ something _ has to change, and it needs to begin within the factories - it’s the source of the tension between the benders and non-benders, and it’s a good start to bringing harmony back to the city.”

“Alright, and what if we implement these  _ reforms _ and nothing changes? Then what? We just let these  _ radical _ bender groups keep destroying our city? I say we separate them before they do any more damage,” Sheng argues back. 

“The  _ benders _ were not the only ones  _ destroying the city, _ as you put it, Mr. Sheng,” the Earth Kingdom representative argues, “As you may recall, the recent attacks on the west side of the city were orchestrated by  _ non- _ benders. No one side is innocent, here.”

Sensing that the imminent derailing of the conversation and knowing that the  _ last _ thing that they should be talking about right now are those  _ recent attacks, _ Zuko speaks up quickly, earning a smile from the woman in green. “The people of Republic City learned to live together in harmony once before, they can do it again,” he insists. 

“Lord Zuko is right,” she agrees with a firm nod, “We cannot continue to make the same mistakes that our forefathers did. I’ve seen what segregation has done to the people of Ba Sing Se. I won’t allow us to do the same here.”

Zuko opens his mouth to continue, but before he has a chance, another voice cuts through the room - one that had remained silent throughout the majority of the meeting. One that Zuko hasn’t heard in  _ weeks. _

“What if they can’t live in harmony?” Sokka asks, his tone curt and short. “What then? How many more innocent people have to die before we do something? How many more families torn apart?”

For a moment, the room falls silent. The air suddenly feels heavy. Electric. Zuko watches as a few of the council members glance between one another, as if unsure of what to do or how to respond, and Zuko realizes quickly that he may need to say something -  _ anything _ \- to talk this moment down.

The representative of the Northern Water Tribe - a man named Tadeq, who has been part of the council for a few years, and whom Zuko knows that Sokka is close with - speaks up before he has the chance, his tone soft and gentle.

“Councilman Sokka -”

“No,” Sokka bites, cutting him off quickly before he can say anything else. Tadeq means well, but Sokka is long past the point of reasoning with. Zuko can tell. 

“We’ve tried things  _ your _ way, with  _ peace _ and  _ understanding, _ and look where it has gotten us!” Sokka continues, the volume of his voice growing as he speaks, “I’m done trying to reason with these people. It’s clear that they don’t care -”

_ “Sokka.” _

The two syllables leave Zuko’s mouth before he even realizes what he’s doing. As soon as he says the other man’s name, the entire council - Sokka included - turns to look his way with wide, surprised eyes, and suddenly, he has absolutely  _ no _ idea what he’s supposed to say. 

This isn’t how he wanted things to go. He didn’t want his first interaction with Sokka following the funeral to be like  _ this. _ When he entertained the idea of stopping by his home, he imagined that it would be a quiet, intimate moment. That they’d have the time to properly talk. That he’d be able to be there for Sokka like Sokka once was for him, when  _ he  _ was in a dark place. 

He didn’t imagine that he’d be arguing - albeit gently - with him at a council meeting, regarding what to do about the people responsible for  _ killing his girlfriend.  _

Zuko clears his throat, suddenly acutely aware of all of the eyes on him, and tries to choose his words wisely.

_ How would Uncle handle a situation like this? With compassion, patience and understanding.  _

He takes a deep breath.

“Sokka,” he repeats, willing his tone to sound gentle, yet firm. “You know as well as I do that the hurt from the hundred year war runs deep, and not just between the Fire Nation and the other nations.  _ Yes, _ I agree that other methods so far have not been successful, but we cannot just give up on everything we - everything _ you _ and Aang and -”

He cringes at his next choice of words even as he says them. 

“ - and  _ Suki _ worked so hard towards here in Republic City. We  _ have _ to try to make things better. We have to  _ be _ better.”

Again, the room grows silent, and for a moment, Zuko forgets about the other eyes on him. He forgets that he’s in the middle of an important council meeting in foreign lands, representing the people of the Fire Nation. For a moment, it’s just him and Sokka, and there’s  _ so much _ that he wants to say, so much that he can’t just make right with a few carefully chosen words. And this  _ isn’t _ how he wanted it to go.

He wants to tell Sokka as much, but as he opens his mouth to speak again, the other man cuts him off with a terse scoff. 

“Yeah, well,  _ good luck with that,” _ Sokka finally bites in return.

The moment shatters around them, and before Zuko can reach out to stop him, Sokka is standing from where he sits and storming out of city hall while the rest of the council watches on wordlessly. For just a few seconds, the room is so quiet that one could hear a pin drop, and then, it absolutely  _ explodes. _ One moment,  _ nobody _ in the room is speaking, and the next,  _ everyone _ is yelling over one another. 

But Zuko doesn’t stick around to bicker with them. For a moment, he just  _ sits there, _ shocked, his wide eyes trained on the spot where Sokka had just been seated, replaying their brief yet tense conversation over and over in his head. Just when he hits the moment when Sokka leaves, he hits rewind, as if attempting to go back and stop himself. This  _ isn’t _ how he expected this conversation to go. It isn’t even the conversation he  _ envisioned having  _ with Sokka. The other man needed his space, and Zuko was more than willing to give it to him, so when he imagined finally getting to see and speak to him again, he assumed it would be good. At the very least, it would be friendly, if not incredibly somber.

Just not… whatever the hell  _ that _ was.

As he sits quietly by himself, Zuko wonders if Katara and Aang knew that Sokka had been planning on attending the meeting. Knowing Sokka, he probably made the decision himself and left without telling anyone. 

Which means that there likely isn’t anyone waiting to talk to or comfort him once he gets home. 

Belatedly realizing that he should have  _ chased after his friend _ when he so abruptly left the meeting, Zuko quickly rises from his seat, chair scraping loudly against the wood floor, and turns to make his way out of the hall before anyone can think to stop him. With large, meaningful strides, Zuko walks briskly through the building and out the front door, stopping for only a moment to survey his surroundings. He’s not surprised to find that Sokka is already long gone, but it isn’t until he’s standing in the warm daylight that Zuko realizes  _ he isn’t sure where Sokka would go. _

Sure,  _ home _ is a reasonable place to start, but the problem with that is the fact that Sokka isn’t being  _ reasonable _ right now. The tone that he’d taken and the way he’d been acting was reminiscent of the way Aang used to get when discussing the Air Nomads with anyone who might not see eye to eye with him - defensive and stubborn. It makes sense. Back then, Aang was defending his people who could no longer defend themselves, and in a way, Sokka was defending  _ Suki _ today. 

So if Zuko knows Sokka, then he knows that he’s probably not acting reasonable or rational right now. He probably didn’t go directly home. He would go somewhere comfortable and familiar, yet somewhere that no one would think to look. 

So where…

Zuko scans the surrounding streets, as if he might spy a clue or a hint that might indicate where Sokka ran off to, and -

It only takes a moment before he’s gasping, then turning to jog in the direction of the city library. 

It must look unbecoming of the Fire Lord to be running through busy city streets, his formal robes flowing gracelessly behind him, but Zuko doesn’t care. Hell, he has  _ never _ really cared what others thought of him, not since he was sixteen and terrified of failing everyone who was looking to him for guidance and peace and stability. Now, as a confident  _ man, _ Zuko frankly doesn’t give a shit if he looks unprofessional as he weaves his way throughout the late afternoon crowds of downtown Republic City and pays no mind to the watchful eyes, hoping and praying that Sokka is still as predictable now as he was when he was just a teenager himself. 

It doesn’t take long for him to reach the library, and when Zuko arrives, he quickly ducks inside, averting his gaze from the staff who might try to stop him or speak with him, and instead, he finds himself following the same route to the rooftop that Sokka showed him years ago. Things seemed so much  _ easier _ back then, looking back on it. Sure, they  _ both _ were still a bit on edge, still feeling the weight of the world and their people on their shoulders, but compared to  _ now, _ it was a walk in the park. And as Zuko finds himself taking the steps two at a time, he only hopes that they can find that again one day. 

By the time Zuko pushes the door to the building’s rooftop open, the sun is just beginning to dip low in the western horizon. It’s still early enough that he hears the sounds of laughing children and chatter from street vendors on the streets below, but late enough that he has to squint in the direction of the sun as he searches for a familiar form on the rooftop. 

And there, sitting on the very edge of the building that Zuko remembers sitting on years ago at his side, is Sokka. His back is turned to Zuko as he faces the bustling city and slowly setting sun, but Zuko is certain that he heard the door scrape open when he emerged from inside. Regardless, he doesn’t turn, nor does he say anything when the heavy door eventually swings shut behind Zuko. 

Unsure of what exactly to do or say, Zuko takes a moment to gather himself, taking a deep breath before taking a step in Sokka’s direction. He chased after his friend because he knew that it was the right thing to do, but now that he’s alone with him, now that he’s approaching him awkwardly on the rooftop - Sokka’s  _ sacred space _ in this busy, loud, overwhelming city - Zuko has absolutely no idea what to do or say. He has never been great with words - not like his uncle or his mother or  _ hell, _ even Azula. He rarely knows the right thing to say, especially in delicate moments such as this, but as Zuko slowly approaches Sokka, he thinks back to every time that Sokka was there for him, to offer a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on or a reassuring word, and he knows that if nothing else, he  _ owes _ Sokka this.  _ This _ is what friends are for - to be there for each other during these ugly, painful moments. He  _ wants _ to be here, even if he doesn’t quite know the right thing to say. 

Eventually, once Zuko is close enough to speak in a low voice - not that he has found the right words to say yet - Sokka  _ finally _ turns to look at him, his face morphing into something controlled and resigned and…  _ empty. _ It isn’t the face of the man who had passionately argued with him in the council meeting less than thirty minutes ago. It’s the face of a man who has been through too much, who thought he was finally finished dealing with grief and loss and  _ pain _ and just had his entire world ripped out from underneath him. It’s the same face that Zuko saw at the funeral, and it breaks his fucking heart. Sokka should _ never _ look like  _ that. _

But still, Zuko doesn’t quite know the right words to say, so in the end, it’s Sokka who eventually breaks the silence as he angles his face away once more and mutters,  _ “Hey.” _

And  _ spirits, _ Sokka shouldn’t be the one to speak first. Sokka shouldn’t be the one carrying this conversation. Sokka has  _ always  _ been the leader, the responsible one, the brains behind the operation, and he shouldn’t have to carry that weight right now. But despite years of friendship and healthy relationships and unlearning the terrible things that his father drilled into his head, Zuko still has troubles navigating things like  _ this _ , so all he manages to do is ask quietly, “May I?”

Wordlessly, Sokka extends his right arm, inviting Zuko to sit next to him, and Zuko takes the hint, making himself comfortable (or at least, as comfortable as he can get) at his friend’s side. (His  _ friend _ who he hasn’t seen or talked to since Suki’s funeral, who Zuko suddenly feels extremely guilty for neglecting for the past few weeks as he buried himself in work as a coping mechanism.)

Finally, sitting at Sokka’s side, Zuko manages to muster the courage to say something, but just as he opens his mouth to speak, Sokka does so as well. 

_ “Sokka -” _

_ “I -” _

Under any other circumstances, they’d be laughing at their awkward attempt at breaking the silence at the exact same time, but now, Zuko just offers Sokka a gentle smile while Sokka patiently motions for him to speak first. 

Zuko takes a deep breath, and as he does, he’s reminded of countless difficult conversations that they’ve shared over the years, from Zuko telling Sokka of his own insecurities and Sokka admitting that he doesn’t feel at home in the South Pole anymore, to a very awkward conversation one morning on Ember Island after too much Fire Whiskey and an emotional talk about Zuko’s scar and -

And although Zuko doesn’t quite know the  _ right  _ words to say - he doesn’t think he ever will - he knows that he can do this. This time, it’s his turn to be there for Sokka, and he’ll be damned if he fucks this up.

“I’m sorry for bringing up -” he starts, then stops, unable to utter her name and unsure if it would even be the right thing to say right now. Zuko cringes at his choice of words, but presses onward. “In the council meeting, I shouldn’t have said -”

“You shouldn’t have,” Sokka interrupts before Zuko can say anything else that he’ll regret later, “But I needed to hear it.” He turns to look at Zuko at that, his face stoic and unreadable. “I shouldn’t have stormed out,” he continues, “I’m sorry -”

“You have  _ nothing _ to apologize for,” Zuko insists before he can even get the words out. Sure, it may have been seen as unprofessional by Sokka’s peers, but  _ fuck them. _ They don’t matter right now. 

Zuko doesn’t say exactly  _ that _ , though. Instead, he shifts, turning his body slightly so he’s facing Sokka a little more fully, and asks, his voice as soft and gentle as he can muster, “Are you okay?”

And to his surprise, Sokka just…  _ laughs.  _

It isn’t the sharp, unhinged laugh that Zuko used to hear from Azula when he first began visiting her, but it isn’t the deep, hearty laugh that Zuko has come to expect from Sokka over the years, either. Instead, it lies somewhere uncomfortably in between. It’s high and tight and utterly  _ exhausted _ and in an instant, it has Zuko regretting the question that he just asked. 

Zuko cringes. “Sorry I shouldn’t have -”

“You know,” Sokka interrupts before he can even fully form his apology, “Everyone has been asking me that  _ exact _ question for  _ weeks _ now. What am I supposed to say? I’m obviously  _ not _ okay, but saying so isn’t going to change anything. I just -”

He shakes his head, his words catching in his throat. Turning away from Zuko just slightly, Sokka wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand, grimacing at his emotional outburst, and Zuko -

Zuko doesn’t know what to do or what to say. How can he? Surprisingly, he has never  _ lost _ anyone in this sense before. Obviously, he has been through his own fair share of hardships, but none of them compare to losing the person that you love. 

But he has to say something. 

So Zuko reaches out, his hand just barely hovering over Sokka’s shoulder, afraid to touch, to cross any invisible line that may have been set in the weeks following Suki’s death. He swallows and attempts to start, “Sokka, I -”

_ I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I’m here if you need me. I miss her too. I should have done more.  _

But before he can get the words out, Sokka is turning to look at him once more, bloodshot and tired eyes bearing into his own.  _ “I’m not okay,” _ Sokka repeats, this time his voice a little softer and shakier, and this time, Zuko is prepared for what comes next. He catches Sokka when he practically collapses into his arms, body shaking with sudden sobs. 

Zuko isn’t sure how long he holds Sokka in his arms, at a loss for words but understanding that maybe Sokka doesn’t need to  _ hear anything _ right now, but by the time they finally decide to descend from the rooftop, the sun has long since set, leaving only a dusky, violet haze over the horizon. They don’t talk much, even after Sokka regains a bit of composure and extracts himself from Zuko’s grip, and Zuko lets Sokka lead any conversation that they  _ do _ have, but by the time they’re walking together through the dark city streets, the tension between them has bled out into nothing. 

“Thank you,” Sokka tells Zuko, as they slowly near Sokka’s home, “For coming after me. I acted like an ass in the meeting and definitely didn’t deserve it.”

“You were kind of an ass,” Zuko admits, which earns a snort from Sokka, but he continues, “But I think it was justified. And I should have come to see you sooner. I just didn’t want to force you -”

“Nah, I probably would have told you to fuck off anyway,” Sokka retorts. There’s a smile on his face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I haven’t been the most  _ pleasant  _ person to be around lately. So thanks. For giving me space.”

Zuko opens his mouth to tell Sokka that he’s there to help in whatever way he needs, but as he does so, they round the final corner to Sokka’s house and are met with the sight of not just Aang, but also Katara waiting for him on his front porch. Sokka cringes, but his step doesn’t falter, even as Katara stands from where she’d been previously sitting, calling loudly -

_ “Where have you been?! We were about to send a search party -” _

And at that, Sokka quickly glances in Zuko’s direction, offering a small smile and a soft, “Stop by whenever.”

* * *

_ Whenever _ turns out to be just a few days later, when Zuko finds a lull in his schedule of attending council meetings and working on police reform proposals with Toph as well as workplace equality proposals with the business council and…

_ Shit, _ how did he manage to find himself working just as hard  _ here _ as he does back home? Under any other circumstances, it would be comical, really. Normally, Zuko travels to Republic City to  _ get away _ from work, yet here he is spending more time in meetings than he has in the Fire Nation in the past several months. If Katara and Aang have noticed (which they certainly have) they don’t call him out on it. Sokka, however, is an entirely different story. 

“So, I’ve heard that you’ve attended quite a few council meetings...” Sokka remarks the next time they see each other. They’re sitting out near the bay, on one of the older, lesser used docks, sharing a lunch that Zuko picked up from a nearby restaurant on his way to Sokka’s place, and up until  _ now,  _ they were enjoying a nice meal together in peace and Sokka had been kind enough not to bring up the fact that Zuko has been in Republic City for  _ weeks _ now, let alone how much he has been working. 

Zuko cringes around a bite of noodles, but quickly schools his features before shrugging and replying, “I figured I’d keep myself busy while I was in town.”

_ That _ answer, however, doesn’t sit very well with Sokka, who just shoots him a  _ look _ . “Alright, who are you and what have you done with Zuko?” he retorts, a small smile spreading across his face, “I thought you  _ hated _ the council meetings.” 

“I do!” Zuko shoots back all too quickly, then scrambles to add, sputtering, “But I just thought - I mean, while I’m in here, I might as well make myself useful, and -”

_ “Speaking of which,” _ Sokka presses, cutting him off before he can finish, “What  _ are _ you still doing in Republic City? I figured you would have gone back to the Fire Nation by now. Not that I mind, but…”

Zuko opens his mouth to answer Sokka’s question, then promptly closes it once more. How does he go about explaining to Sokka that he hasn’t left yet because he feels like he needs to help fix the problem that ultimately ended Suki’s life? How does he explain that he has been putting off going home because if he can’t help resolve this one issue, then how could he possibly expect to run his own nation? That in a weird way, he feels guilty for Suki’s passing, because maybe if he just kept her in the Fire Nation, none of this would have happened, and -

And how is he supposed to tell Sokka that he also hasn’t left yet because he didn’t want to depart before seeing him once more, before making sure his best friend - the person that he’s still so hopelessly in love with - is doing okay?

“I -” Zuko starts then stops, “I couldn’t - I mean, there was still a lot to do, it didn’t feel right to go home just yet.” 

And…  _ yeah. _ Sure. That  _ kind of _ explains it. It may just be the tip of the iceberg, but Sokka seems to accept his answer. 

“Well,” he mutters, clearing his throat, “I uh - I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Yeah,” Zuko murmurs in response, his gaze drifting from the bay before them back to Sokka, “Me too.” 

A silence falls between them at that, and for a few moments, Zuko just lets himself sit in it. Although this isn’t his first time speaking with Sokka since Suki’s death, it still feels like walking on eggshells. It was so much easier to talk to Aang, and even Katara about this. Zuko knows that Sokka is strong, but Suki was, well…  _ Suki. _ It’s different, with him. 

So for now, Zuko lets the silence settle around them, content to let Sokka drive the conversation in whatever direction feels comfortable. 

And that’s exactly what he does. 

“Thanks,” Sokka says at last, breaking the awkward silence, his gaze trained out over the bay, “For uh - picking up my slack. I wanted to be at the meetings but it’s… it has been hard and -”

_ “Sokka,” _ Zuko interrupts before he can say anything else, “Stop.” His sudden command earns a surprised look from his friend, but Zuko continues, “Trust me when I say that I get it - I know that it probably feels like Republic City is going to fall apart without you, but the council will survive without you at a few meetings.”

That very feeling was something that was very difficult for Zuko to come to terms with when he first became Fire Lord. It always felt as if they were still standing on the precipice of an all out war, and if he missed a single meeting because he was sick, or out of town, or spirits forbid, his  _ friends came to visit, _ the world was going to come to an end. It took many talks with his uncle (and a few stern discussions with his doctor) to convince him otherwise. It only makes sense that Sokka feels the same way, all things considered. 

But…

“That’s -” Sokka sighs loudly, shaking his head, “That’s not it. Well, it is, but…” He groans in frustration, and it’s all that Zuko can do to just wait patiently while he gets the words out. 

“I feel like I should be doing  _ more, _ you know?” Sokka says at last, turning to look at Zuko with wide, earnest eyes, “I mean, after everything, I’ve just been cooped up at home while everyone else is trying to resolve the issues that cost Suki her -  _ and I’m not doing anything. _ It’s pathetic.”

_ Oh. _

“Shit,” Zuko mutters before he can stop the word from leaving his mouth. Without warning, he reaches out, placing one hand on Sokka’s arm, unafraid of touching him now, as he had been a few days ago. “Sokka, you can’t possibly -  _ nobody _ expects you to take this on by yourself.”

Sokka jerks back, but doesn’t pull entirely out of Zuko’s grasp. “No?!” he bites, his tone suddenly full of fire, “Then what am I  _ supposed _ to do? Just sit around and do  _ nothing? _ I feel useless, and -”

_ “Look,” _ Zuko cuts him off before he can beat himself up anymore. “We’re not trying to coddle you, we’re just trying to  _ help,” _ he insists, “I don’t expect you to sit around and do nothing, but that’s what  _ we - _ me, and your sister and Aang and Toph - are here for. Let us help.”

“We should have helped  _ sooner!” _ Sokka shouts back, clearly angry, but not at any one person. Zuko loosens his grip on his arm, but Sokka doesn’t pull away entirely, and he takes it as a good sign. 

“I know,” Zuko agrees gently, “I know, but we had no way of knowing.”

Sokka shakes his head, a few loose strands of hair falling into his eyes. His shoulders slump slightly as he mutters, nearly too soft to hear, “After all this time, I still can’t protect the people that I love.” 

The weight of Sokka’s words, although spoken softly, hit Zuko like a ton of bricks. Their meaning, as they sit together on a rickety old dock in  _ Yue Bay _ , isn’t lost on him. Zuko knows Sokka better than most, and he knows that the other man still harbors quite a bit of guilt for what happened to his first girlfriend, regardless of fate or destiny or the spirits, and he knows that deep down, Sokka partially blames himself for his mother’s death, as well. In his eyes, in his current state of mind, Suki was just one more person that he couldn’t protect. 

Now, sitting here with Sokka, he can’t help but think back to something the other man said when they were both just two scared teenagers, healing together in the palace infirmary. 

_ “I dragged them into that mess and I was the reason that they almost died.” _

Zuko vividly remembers the guilt that Sokka felt just knowing that Suki and Toph nearly perished under his watch. He can only imagine that the feeling is just amplified now, even though any rational person would argue that there was nothing Sokka could have done to save Suki this time around. 

“Sokka,” he murmurs, squeezing the other man’s arm gently, as if to prove that he’s still here, that it’s going to be okay, no matter how dark it feels. “It wasn’t up to you to protect them. This isn’t your fault.”

Zuko is sure that if Sokka has expressed these feelings to anyone else yet, they’ve likely told him the same thing, but it doesn’t make the words any less true. Sokka has  _ always _ been the leader of their little rag-tag group of friends, the protector. The big brother. Zuko can relate with him on that level, because when he thinks of his  _ own _ sister, still living under supervised psychiatric care, he can’t help but feel like it’s partially his fault that she ended up the way she did, like maybe, if he were a better brother, if he would have protected her, if he would have just tried a little harder, things wouldn’t have ended up the way that they did. 

So he gets it. He does. Maybe not on the same exact level as Sokka right now, but he understands that guilt and self-hatred more than anyone else, and he needs Sokka to know that it’s not his fault. He’ll say it a million times if he has to. 

In response, Sokka practically  _ crumbles _ next to him, folding over on himself with just enough time for Zuko to catch him. And as Zuko holds him close, he silently promises to catch Sokka whenever he needs it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, this was such a bittersweet chapter to write. I hope you all enjoyed it. 
> 
> The next update might be a little ways out. It has been hard to find time to write lately because work has been insane and these next few chapters are still kind of in the works, but I’m hoping to have the next chapter up before the end of the month! Bear with me. 
> 
> Thank you all again for reading. I’m so glad you’ve chosen to go on this sad, angsty, emotional ride with me.


	12. Chapter 12 - I Hope to Think of This as Better Times

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends. Thank you all so much for your patience between updates. I know I promised another one last month, but here we are in January. 
> 
> If you follow me on Tumblr, you may already know this, but late last month, a very close friend of mine unexpectedly passed away, so as you can assume, life has been absolute chaos these past few weeks and writing has been the furthest thing from my mind.
> 
> In a weird, kind of poetic twist of fate, though, I found myself needing a distraction these past few days, and I was about halfway done writing this chapter and set out to finish the rest of it, and... damn. It feels really strange to feel somewhat comforted by the words that I wrote almost a month ago, before everything happened, but here I am. I was really worried that working on a fic with these themes would hurt after everything, but it has actually been kind of comforting.
> 
> Anyway, I don't want to go down that huge rabbit hole here, but I just wanted to let y'all know what's going on in my life right now. Updates might be a little sporadic since doing anything just feels very wrong right now, but writing, especially about these topics, definitely helps as well. So hopefully you'll be hearing from me again sooner rather than later. Okay, I'm rambling, but yeah. Just wanted to share that. 
> 
> I hold this chapter really close to my heart now, so I really hope you enjoy it.

_ So we'll run into the open  
Keep your hand inside of mine  
And then when everything is over  
I hope to think of this as better times  
  
The sky got red and swollen  
I guess I never see the signs  
There can't be songs for every soldier  
It can't be solace every time you cry _

\- "[Lost](https://open.spotify.com/track/5b7rcHzK8adIWEfKfWsKl5?si=JZKWk52OQRSYKvdh6qUkcQ)" - Dermot Kennedy

* * *

Time is an impartial, constant driving force. Even when it feels like your entire world has stopped moving around you, when it feels like you can’t make it any further, when you just want to  _ stop _ and give up, time keeps moving forward. Nobody is safe from it. Nobody is exempt. Not even the Avatar, who sat frozen for a hundred years while the world moved on without him, who still had to fight in a war that he never signed up for at just twelve years old. Not even Ozai, who sits in a cell just outside of Caldera City, powerless and slowly aging, left to think about his every mistake that led him to this point. 

Fire Lord Zuko isn’t exempt from the passing of time, and neither are his friends - Katara, who at twenty-seven years old becomes pregnant with her third child, or Toph, who despite her best efforts, eventually finds herself leading the police force in Republic City when officials practically beg her to help get the city under control, or even -

Even Sokka, who wants nothing more than to go back in time, to stop Suki from being  _ so damn selfless, _ to tell her to stay home that fateful day, to bring her with him on his trip, to do  _ anything _ to keep her safe. 

Time waits for no one, no matter who you are, no matter if it feels like your entire world has stopped turning around you, and it’s painful and messy, but…

But it also heals. It doesn’t make the pain disappear, but it makes it hurt a little less, as time passes. Time doesn’t heal  _ all _ wounds, but it makes them easier to maintain, makes them hurt a little bit less with each passing day, and eventually, time makes it easier to move forward.

And as much as they - Sokka, Katara, Aang, Toph and Zuko - don’t want to keep moving forward without an integral member of their team and one of their best friends, time stops for no one. So they manage. They find themselves diving into work or focusing on their families, and as the next two years pass, it doesn’t become  _ easy _ by any means, but it gets  _ easier.  _

For Zuko, it means that he ends up splitting much of his time between his home in the Fire Nation while still frequently traveling to Republic City to aid in workplace reform and the restoration of peace between benders and non benders. It’s exhausting at times, to say the least, but it’s something that he has grown used to during his time as Fire Lord. As much as Zuko still battles with imposter syndrome, feeling as he isn’t good enough for his own nation while sometimes unable to understand why the officials in Republic City value his input so much, he is also happy to help in any way that he can. If his presence can somehow help to pave the way for peace or make things better in the long run, then it’s worth all of the long meetings, sleepless nights, feelings of inadequacy and time away from his home. 

And besides, it means that he gets to see his friends often, too. Over the next couple of years and his many frequent trips to Republic City, which has become a hub for world leaders, peace summits and technological discoveries, Zuko also finds much more time to spend with his friends than he used to, whether it’s having dinner over on Air Temple Island and regaling Aang and Katara’s young, wide-eyed children with stories of the Fire Nation, finding the time to catch up with Toph over a good-natured yet intense sparring session, or even catching Sokka on an off day and spending the late afternoon and early evening sitting atop the library, talking and watching the sun set over Republic City. Zuko cherishes his time with his friends more than ever in the years following Suki’s death, and it’s a bittersweet thing, really, but they were young and naive and  _ comfortable _ before. Although they all collectively had suffered and lost so much during the war, peacetime had made them feel as though they had all the time in the world, that they were  _ safe. _ In the years following Suki’s passing, Zuko finds himself consciously making an effort to see those he cares most about, his uncle included, as much as possible in between meetings and summits and diplomatic trips across the other nations, because if he learned anything, it’s that none of them are guaranteed all the time in the world. 

It’s awful, Zuko finds himself thinking, that it took the death of someone that they all loved and cared for, someone who went well before her time, to remind them again just how fragile life is and just how little time they may have together, but in a strange sense, he is grateful. He never voices it out loud, but it almost feels fitting that, even in death, Suki has somehow managed to bring their group even closer together than before. She had been the quickest to forgive Zuko, even after he burnt down her village, so it only made sense that she was still affecting his life  _ now,  _ two years after her passing. Suki had also been the one to inspire countless young women, Ty Lee included, to join the Kyoshi Warriors and help restore peace and harmony to the four nations, so it comes as no surprise that after her passing, her friends and those closest to her continue to work hard to ensure that her death wasn’t in vain. 

So sure, time can be cruel and unforgiving, but it can also bring healing and strength to those who need it the most -

People like Zuko, who over the next two years musters up the patience and dignity and poise to sit through countless meetings to provide a voice of guidance and reason to not only his own nation, but Republic city as well. Or Toph, who sacrifices the metalbending academy that she worked  _ so hard _ on establishing and sets aside her disdain for law enforcement (and organized government in general) to eventually rise up the ranks of Republic City’s police force. (Because if you want something done right, you might as well do it yourself.)

Time brings peace and healing to Aang who has already lost  _ so much _ in his life, yet continues to put the needs of others ahead of himself, and even Katara, who devotes herself to ensuring that children like her own - an airbender, a waterbender, and a non-bender - never have to worry about their safety, security or equality. 

And then there’s  _ Sokka,  _ who works tirelessly to make sure that Suki’s legacy lives on in everything that he does.  _ Councilman _ Sokka, who buries himself under work, not just because it makes him feel like he’s making a difference, but because he truly  _ is _ one of the most brilliant minds in Republic City, and everyone knows it. Long gone is the self-conscious, dorky kid that Zuko first met all of those years ago, and in his place is a well-spoken, brilliant leader - the type of person who would eventually make a fantastic Chief. When Sokka speaks, everyone listens. There’s not a single problem that Sokka can’t solve with a little creative thinking and hard work, and because of that, he’s seemingly  _ always  _ busy over the course of the next couple of years, whether that means he’s staying late after a council meeting or sailing back home to assist in the expansion of the Southern Water Tribe or flying to Ba Sing Se to sit in on a meeting with King Kuei. 

Time finds Sokka  _ busy _ more often than not, but that  _ also _ means that Zuko sees Sokka much more than one would expect. In between long meetings in the Fire Nation, councils in the Earth Kingdom, peace summits in the North  _ and _ South poles and occasionally even working on proposals or projects in Republic City together, Zuko is pleased to find that he gets to spend more time with his best friend, whether it means sitting side by side in long meetings, trying out a new fusion restaurant in Republic City, catching up with Iroh at the Jasmine Dragon or even sparring together in Zuko’s palace courtyard when the opportunity occasionally presents itself. 

And although Sokka has grown up significantly in the years since they first became friends (and even more so in just the two years since Suki’s death) he’s still the same brilliant, hilarious, caring, energetic person that Zuko first felt drawn to all those years ago. 

(And as much as it kills him, Zuko still feels drawn to him now.)

As the next few years pass, Zuko finds himself spending much more time with his friends than he has in previous years. Letters become fewer and further between, but it’s not because he and Sokka (or Katara, or Aang or Toph) stop writing, it’s just that the time between visits becomes shorter and shorter. Whether that’s because of improved technology cutting air travel time down or increased collaboration between the four nations or simply because they’ve recently realized that time moves all too quickly and they need to see each other more often, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that Zuko feels closer to his friends and found family than he has in  _ years _ , and with frequent visits and vacations, the loneliness that had managed to burrow its way into his chest years ago shrinks, even if just a little bit. It never fully dissipates - Zuko doesn’t think it ever will, he has been through too much in his still so short life - but it becomes manageable and even easy to ignore when his days are filled with work that he actually  _ enjoys _ and friends who he wouldn’t trade for the world. 

When he lays awake at night, sometimes Zuko thinks that it’s bittersweet that it’s only  _ now _ that they’ve all become so close, that Suki’s death was the unspoken catalyst for  _ everything - _ their successes in their careers, their closeness as friends, the collaboration between the nations and even benders and non-benders - but he knows that Suki would be angry with him for dwelling on that, so he tries his best not to. Instead, he focuses on making every dinner with Aang and Katara, every night going drink for drink with Toph, and every late night heart to heart with Sokka, as few and far between as they may or may not be, worth it. After Suki’s death, he vows never to take any of it for granted, and as the years pass and time goes on, things finally begin to feel  _ good _ again. 

Things feel  _ good, _ because Republic City, after months and months of debate and countless meetings,  _ finally _ passes legislation ensuring equality between benders and non-benders in the workplace. Things feel good, because Zuko finally manages to reach a comfortable middle ground with even the most stubborn, old-fashioned members of his cabinet, and he knows deep down that it’s something that not even his  _ father _ would have been able to accomplish. Things feel good, because Zuko has a strong relationship with his ambassadors from Ba Sing Se and the Water Tribes, despite how unsure and distrustful they had been of him when they stepped foot in Caldera City years ago.

And things feel  _ good _ because with time, Sokka begins to smile more when Zuko sees him. As time passes, he seems lighter, happier, a little more at ease. That’s not to say that time diminishes the effect that Suki’s death had on him, and that’s not to say that he isn’t still grieving _ , _ but with time, Sokka begins to heal. 

And Zuko is there with him every step of the way. Zuko is there when Sokka sends long, rambling, angry, frustrated letters, begging him,  _ “please don’t feel like you have to write back, I just needed to get this all out, I don’t expect you to know the right thing to say.” _ And Zuko is there on the first anniversary of Suki’s passing, conveniently visiting Republic City for leisure even though they  _ all  _ know that he’s there because it doesn’t feel right to be alone on that day. He’s there when Sokka eventually collapses into a heap of tears at the end of the night after maybe just one too many drinks, muttering,  _ “I thought it would get easier, but it’s still just so hard.”  _ And Zuko is there the next year, when they take an impromptu trip to Kyoshi Island and Sokka, still teary-eyed but standing just a little bit taller, tells his friends and family,  _ “She’d be so proud of us, you know.” _

Time doesn’t fix everything, and time certainly can’t bring Suki back, but with everything that time takes away, it  _ gives, _ too. And a little over two years after Suki’s passing, time gives Zuko a very strange and unexpected gift once more.

It’s a warm, late summer afternoon when one of Zuko’s aids knocks, then lets herself into his study after he calls for her to enter. More often than not nowadays, he can be found holed up in the small room late in the day, hunched over a thick book or writing and rewriting speeches for his next public appearance or working on proposals for his next meeting, and today is no different. In fact, Zuko doesn’t even look up when his aid steps foot in the room, quietly closing the door behind her. He does pause his writing, though. 

“What can I do for you, Ikiri?” Zuko asks, even as he reads then re-reads the last sentence of the speech that he’s currently working on. He’ll have to have his royal speech writers look it over, of course, but Zuko would prefer if his personality and own speech patterns would bleed into whatever they decide to rework. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, My Lord,” Ikiri says after a beat, clearing her throat, and Zuko immediately recognizes by the tone of her voice that this is serious. 

He looks up at last, grateful that Ikiri doesn’t flinch as his aids  _ used to _ years ago when he was still a new Fire Lord and they weren’t sure what to expect. “What is it?” he asks, his tone careful and patient. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t important, and judging by the look on her face, it is. 

“Well -”she wrings her hands together, nervousness taking over her features despite Zuko’s purposely relaxed demeanor. “I know it’s very last minute, especially with your trade agreement in the works right now, but Ambassador Keno has requested a leave of absence to travel back to the Southern Water Tribe as soon as possible, My Lord. It seems that his mother has fallen ill and -”

_ “Of course,”  _ Zuko cuts her off before she can even finish explaining, “Of course, he can leave at once. He should be with his family. Tell him to take as long as he needs.” 

Ikiri nods. “Of course, My Lord. Should I send for a replacement, in his stead?”

For a brief moment, as he looks up at his aid, Zuko finds himself thinking back to a night years ago, when he and Sokka sat outside together, when Sokka told him that he didn’t want to go back to the South Pole and Zuko  _ almost _ considered asking him to stay in the Fire Nation. He would have made a fantastic ambassador then, and he’d be an even more valuable asset now, but -

_ No. _ Sokka has too many people counting on him in Republic City. Besides, they’re older, now. Sokka has built a life there. He’d never up and move, just because Zuko asked. 

Still, it doesn’t stop him from daydreaming, even if just for a moment. 

Zuko shakes himself out of it. “No need, Ikiri,” Zuko insists, “I’ll personally write to Chief Hakoda in the morning.”

Ikiri nods again, and without another word, she ducks out of Zuko’s study, leaving him to the quiet crackling of fire once more. 

Almost immediately, Zuko begins to pen a letter to Hakoda. It’s short and simple, asking for recommendations for a replacement in Keno’s stead. After sealing the letter, he even considers writing to Sokka as well - it’s not that he doesn’t trust the Chief’s judgement, but he would trust Sokka with his  _ life _ \- but ultimately, he decides against it. Sokka is already busy as is and he doesn’t want to add any more to his already full plate. The next time he writes to his friend, he knows that it should be because they’re catching up, not talking business. 

So Zuko thinks nothing of it the next morning, when he sends a hawk for the Southern Water Tribe, and he thinks nothing of it when Hakoda writes back only a few days later, promising to send his best candidate to meet with Zuko in just a few weeks time. 

Years ago, Zuko dreamt of having Sokka here with him in the Fire Nation, serving as his ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe. Of course, it was just a pipe dream mainly fueled by his own attraction to the other man, but he wouldn’t be lying if he said that Sokka would make an incredible ambassador, with his brilliant mind, creative inventions and his compassion for other people. 

But, Zuko reasons, Sokka has to get that from  _ somewhere, _ and he trusts Hakoda’s judgement. Although it’s not Sokka, he’s sure that  _ whoever  _ the Chief sends will be more than capable, if not a great asset as an ambassador.

So Zuko is surprised, to say the least, when just a little over two weeks later, as he stands at the docks to greet his new ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe and watches as none other than  _ Sokka _ steps off the ship with a smile on his face and a pep in his step. Zuko, distracted by the excitement of unexpectedly seeing his friend, doesn’t even consider the implication of his presence as he strides forward and wraps Sokka in a tight hug. He doesn’t even put two and two together because Sokka  _ has a job to do  _ in Republic City, and he probably just decided to accompany the new ambassador to help them get settled. Or maybe he just wanted to come visit. 

“What a pleasant surprise,” Zuko murmurs as he embraces Sokka on the docks that warm morning, the early summer sunlight warming his face, “It’s so good to see you, Sokka.”

Zuko can feel Sokka huff out a laugh against him in response before they part. “Yeah, you too.”

When Zuko does pull away, it’s to hold Sokka at arm’s length for just a moment, touch lingering ever so slightly before he glances between him and the ship, of which nobody else has disembarked. “When I sent for a new ambassador, I wasn’t expecting you to accompany them,” Zuko says, offering Sokka a warm, yet slightly confused smile. And when Sokka doesn’t immediately say anything in response, he asks, cocking his head to the side, “Are they with you?” 

And in return, a smile (or what Zuko will later refer to as a  _ shit-eating grin) _ spreads across Sokka’s face, reminiscent of the playful, sarcastic, witty teenager that Zuko met all of those years ago. He looks so youthful, so utterly pleased with himself and  _ happy _ that Zuko is momentarily distracted, and it doesn’t quite register immediately when Sokka just shrugs and says, “You’re looking at him.”

Zuko  _ hears _ the words leaving Sokka’s mouth, but he doesn’t quite comprehend them immediately. Instead, he finds himself glancing between Sokka and the ship, the ship and Sokka, Sokka and the men in Water Tribe clothing who are slowly starting to unload the ship behind him… The ship, and -

_ “What?” _ Zuko manages to ask, disbelieving. 

“Yeah!” Sokka exclaims, slinging an arm casually around Zuko’s shoulders as if he  _ hasn’t _ noticed the way that Zuko’s brain has just… stopped working. “I figured it would be a nice change of pace!”

Any moment now, Sokka is going to break and tell him that he’s just kidding. Any moment now, Zuko’s going to wake up, because there’s no way that this is happening. There’s no way that Sokka is his replacement ambassador. Sokka has a job in Republic City. He has a  _ life _ in Republic City. It doesn’t make any sense. 

_ “What?” _ Zuko just repeats, unable to utter out any other words. 

And Sokka just… keeps. talking.

“Yeah, I haven’t mentioned it in any letters, but I’ve actually been thinking about taking a leave of absence from the council,” Sokka continues to explain. He starts walking away from the ship, up the dock toward solid ground, and he’s still got his arm slung around Zuko’s shoulders, so he’s steering Zuko as well, Zuko’s legs moving on their own volition. “I was actually in the South Pole when you wrote to my dad, and we figured that it would be a good fit - who better to serve as an interim ambassador than the Chief’s son?”

Zuko opens his mouth to speak, to say something,  _ anything _ , but the words won’t come out. Instead, his brain just keeps repeating,  _ Ambassador Sokka, Ambassador Sokka, Sokka is your new ambassador, _ and is this even possible? Would it be considered a conflict of interests for a member of Republic City’s council to serve as an ambassador? And  _ oh god _ , the small room that he prepared for Keno’s replacement is definitely not enough for Sokka, he’ll have to find better accommodations, he -

_ “Hey,” _ Sokka’s voice shakes him out of his thoughts, and when Zuko glances up, he’s met with a pair of caring, concerned blue eyes. “You okay? Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I wanted you to be surprised and I figured -”

“I’m okay,” Zuko finally manages, “I’m just… _ yeah,  _ I’m surprised. Good job. I -  _ wow, _ Sokka, you didn’t have to - I mean, I’m so happy that you’re here -”

“If you say  _ ‘but’ _ , I’m going to punch you,” Sokka cuts him off, grinning maniacally, then,  _ “Actually…” _

Sokka pulls away suddenly, only to punch Zuko playfully on his arm.  _ “That’s _ for writing to my dad instead of me,” he teases, then punches him again for good measure before Zuko even has a chance to rub at the sore spot, “And  _ that’s _ for not asking me to be your ambassador in the first place.”

At this point, Zuko’s guards don’t even bat an eye at the Water Tribe warrior assaulting their Fire Lord, and Sokka takes full advantage of it, pulling Zuko close once more with his arm around his shoulders after his playful beating. 

“You’ve been spending too much time around Toph,” Zuko complains, reaching up to rub at his arm, which just earns a laugh from Sokka.

_ “Come on, Fire Lord,” _ Sokka just shoots back, pulling him impossibly closer, “Aren’t you gonna show me to my new digs?”

* * *

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening is  _ eventful _ to say the least. As he does when any of his friends come to visit, Zuko nearly trips over himself in an attempt to make sure that Sokka is comfortable and happy and entertained as he gets settled into his new living space. A schedule that was originally crammed full of meetings between Zuko and his new ambassador suddenly clears itself as Zuko prioritizes making sure that everything is to Sokka’s liking, even modifying the menu for dinner last minute to include one of his favorite Fire Nation dishes. It all comes so second nature - visits from his friends are always prioritized and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to make sure that Sokka was comfortable and happy - so he’s surprised when Sokka teases him gently about it during dinner, insisting,  _ “You didn’t have to do this all for little old me. I’m just a humble ambassador, now.” _

Sokka says it with a sly grin, though, which is the only thing that stops Zuko from insisting earnestly, _ “You’re so much more than that” _ and instead he finds himself rolling his eyes and muttering, “I’ll be sure to put you to work first thing tomorrow, then.”

Sokka’s eyes widen at that, and he quickly backpedals, waving his hand around while he insists, “Woah, woah, I mean - I could use a few days to get settled, you know?” 

And  _ spirits, _ Zuko is going to love having him around.

* * *

That night, however, long after dinner has gone cold and Sokka has retired to his new and improved quarters for the evening, Zuko finds himself tossing and turning restlessly in bed. It’s not that he’s anxious or worried or stressed (or any of the other regular reasons why he normally can’t sleep), so he chalks it up to the excitement of the afternoon and the surprise that  _ Sokka _ will be living here with him in the Fire Nation for the foreseeable future. It’s quite embarrassing, really, that even now, all these years later, Zuko still gets worked up and flustered whenever Sokka unexpectedly pops in or teases him at dinner, or claps him warmly on the shoulder and expresses,  _ “It’s really good to see you, man.” _ So maybe  _ that’s  _ what has Zuko feeling so restless that night, unable to fall asleep, maybe that’s what has him sighing and sitting up in bed, resigning himself to either meditate or expend his energy in hopes of at least getting a few hours of sleep. 

When meditation doesn’t quite pan out and the rise and fall of the flames in his quarters prove to be more distracting than soothing, Zuko makes the decision to attempt to wear himself out rather than attempting useless breathing exercises. Quickly, he crosses his room to grab his swords from the wall, then slips out the door and begins to make his way down the dimly lit hallway toward the training arena. Per usual, his guard trails behind quietly at a safe distance, and if he has anything to say about Zuko’s late night impromptu training session, he doesn’t voice it. After all, Zuko’s staff are well accustomed to the Fire Lord’s… less than traditional methods of relaxation and his odd sleep schedules. 

What Zuko  _ doesn’t  _ expect, however, as he approaches the large double doors to the arena, is to spy a figure with a sword strapped to their back slipping in just before him. At the sight of the unexpected company, Zuko’s guard quickly closes the gap between them, placing a hand on his shoulder as if to silently tell him,  _ “I’ll take care of this, my Lord,” _ but Zuko halts him in his steps with a raised palm and a slight smirk. 

After all, he’d know that distinct sword and that traditional Southern Water Tribe hairstyle anywhere. 

In some ways, it feels like just yesterday that Zuko found himself spending late nights with Sokka in this very gym, sparring until his muscles ached, then talking into the early hours of the morning, his eyes heavy and mind quiet when he finally made his way back to his quarters. Those late night sparring sessions and talks with Sokka are not only a fond memory, but also feel very fresh, despite the fact that it has been years since they took the time to do something like that, with their busy schedules and all. 

_ So, _ to step through those double doors and find Sokka pulling his blade from its scabbard in the empty arena feels like stepping back in time, and for a moment, Zuko doesn’t say anything. He just observes, just taking it all in (and maybe admiring the view a little bit) as Sokka rolls his shoulders and swings his sword around easily a few times, seemingly getting used to the weight of it in his hand. Of course, many things have changed since the last time Zuko was alone in this room with Sokka, too. They’ve both grown up quite a bit since then, and even now, the passing of time is obvious just judging by the length of Sokka’s hair, the defined muscles in his arms and even the way he carries himself as he takes a couple of steps into the center of the room, his stride long and confident. 

For a moment, Zuko feels like he’s intruding on something special, something intimate and sacred as he watches Sokka gracefully fall into a few simple stances as a warmup, and he even considers slipping quietly back out the doors and returning to his own room, but just as soon as the thought crosses his mind, Sokka is turning, and -

\-  _ and _ nearly jumping out of his skin when he spies Zuko on the other end of the room. His sword hits the floor with a loud clang and he yelps in surprise, leaping back slightly so it doesn’t land on his feet. 

_ “Spirits, Zuko!” _ Sokka exclaims, his eyes wide, which only earns a laugh in response. 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko manages to choke out through his laughter, “I didn’t mean to scare you.” And  _ spirits, _ isn’t this on brand for them? It almost feels like their clumsy, unsure teenage years, when they were still feeling each other out. 

“Yeah, well, you could have warned a guy,” Sokka says with a shake of his head, bending over to retrieve his sword from the ground. When he straightens out, though, there’s a smile pulling at his lips. “How long have you been standing there?” 

Zuko shrugs as he takes a few more steps into the room, rolling his own shoulders a bit just as he watched Sokka do only a few moments prior. “Not long after you got here,” he says with a smile of his own. “It seems that old habits die hard, huh?”

“Apparently so,” Sokka agrees, watching as Zuko pulls his own blades free. “Do you wanna -”

Zuko nods before Sokka can even get the words out. “Although, you might have to go easy on me. I’ll admit, I’m a bit rusty.”

And at that, Sokka smirks, taking a step forward with his sword raised. “Show me what you got,  _ Fire Lord.” _

About thirty minutes and three yields from the  _ Fire Lord _ later, Sokka is  _ laughing _ as their blades clash in the quiet arena, a smirk playing across his face even as sweat drips down his temple and his hair falls into his eyes. “I know you said you were rusty, but  _ come on,” _ he taunts playfully as he parrys a blow from Zuko, “I think you’ve been going to too many balls and meetings.”

Zuko grunts with exertion as he goes on the defensive, blocking a few strikes of Sokka’s. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been  _ fighting for my life _ recently,” he retorts, “I thought that was a  _ good  _ thing.”

Sokka laughs again, dancing forward in a graceful move that Zuko’s never really been able to muster. Distantly, he wonders if it comes from his time training with the Kyoshi Warriors, but he doesn’t let himself become distracted, and rather than running, he meets Sokka blow for blow, even as his muscles scream at him in response. “Must be nice,” Sokka replies, and Zuko can hear the heavy breathing in his voice, can tell that he’s getting worn out, too. “But we gotta keep you  _ on your toes -” _

At that, Sokka lunges forward, but Zuko sees the move coming a mile away. He parrys the attack with both blades, using Sokka’s momentum against him, which sends his sword flying across the room and has Sokka landing on his ass on the ground in front of him in one fell swoop. With both blades pointed at the Water Tribe warrior, Zuko smirks down at him, ignoring the way his own breath is coming in sharp pants as he rasps, “You were saying?”

And Sokka, although he never grew out of his competitive streak, knows when to admit defeat. Rather than demanding a rematch or scowling up at him like Zuko did the first time Sokka threw him to the ground tonight, he simply leans back and  _ laughs. _ It’s this brilliant, hearty peal of laughter that echoes throughout the room as Sokka throws his head back, and  _ spirits, _ Zuko missed the sound of it. 

He also can’t help but admire the curve of Sokka’s throat, the lines of his strong arms, and the way that his loose hair is plastered to his face and neck. He averts his eyes before he’s caught. 

_ Fuck, _ he’s still in so deep. 

Wordlessly, Zuko takes a seat next to Sokka on the floor, deciding that he has earned a breather as well. He can’t remember the last time he fought like this, the last time someone truly challenged him. Although Zuko trains occasionally in his spare time, most people go easy on him. But not Sokka. Never Sokka. 

“I missed this,” he finds himself admitting after a few quiet moments, because  _ fuck _ , he really did. 

“Yeah?” Sokka asks, a hopeful hint to his voice. When Zuko turns to look at him again, he’s smiling brightly in his direction, the same as he did when they were just teenagers in this very room, trying desperately to figure their lives out. 

“Yeah,” Zuko echoes with a smile of his own, but just as quickly as it appears, it fades as he adds, “Don’t you dare tease me about it.”

With a hand to his chest, Sokka gasps dramatically. “I would  _ never,” _ he exclaims with mock surprise, but caves when Zuko just shoots him a deadpan look. 

“Yeah…” Sokka finally agrees after just a moment, “I missed this, too. Growing up kind of sucks. There’s not enough time for things like this.”

Zuko snorts out a laugh. “You mean kicking the Fire Lord’s ass at  _ swordbending _ late at night?”

_ “Exactly!”  _ Sokka exclaims with a wide grin. He leans back once more, the content smile falling easily across his face as he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. They’re still both coming down from their respective adrenaline highs, and Zuko doesn’t push the conversation as Sokka seemingly relaxes. Impending heart to heart or not, doing something like this takes Zuko back to a time when things were so much simpler, when anything seemed possible. (Which honestly is comical in retrospect, because back then, Zuko was being actively hunted by assassins, they had just ended the war and had no idea what was next, and  _ none _ of them were ready or qualified to be leading any nations.)

Sokka, apparently, feels the same way, because when he eventually opens his eyes again, he shoots Zuko a look and asks, “Weird how things have changed, huh?”

Zuko huffs a quiet laugh. “What, are you a mind reader now?”

For a moment, Sokka doesn’t say anything in response. His eyes linger on Zuko’s for what feels like a lot longer than usual before a fond, warm smile spreads across his face and he eventually turns his gaze to the ceiling. “I was just thinking about that time, years ago, when I suggested becoming your ambassador for the Southern Water Tribe… what was it that you told me?”

“That your talents would be wasted on the Fire Nation,” Zuko says without missing a beat, a smile pulling at his own lips. He remembers that night like it was yesterday, when Sokka told him that he didn’t want to go back to the South Pole. He wanted so badly to ask him to stay, but he knew that it was selfish, that he was destined for so much more. Now, Zuko can’t help but wonder what it would have been like, if he  _ had _ asked Sokka to stay. What would have changed? Would he have even gone to Republic City? Would Suki still be here? 

He shakes  _ those _ intrusive thoughts from his head. Three’s no point in dwelling on the  _ what ifs. _ It doesn’t change anything. Instead, he finds himself saying, “I still stand by that statement. You’ve accomplished so much in Republic City since then.”

He means for it to be a compliment, and he’s sure that deep down, Sokka understands that, but instead of accepting the praise or even gloating about it, Sokka just…  _ sighs.  _ He keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling for a long moment, but Zuko doesn’t miss the way that his shoulders sag slightly, weary and exhausted. 

“I’m proud of the work I’ve done in Republic City, and it will always be a home away from home to me… but it hasn’t been the same since -” Sokka cuts himself off, shaking his head, but Zuko knows what he means. He doesn’t have to say the words. Even a few years later, it’s still painful. It’s like opening a wound every time. Zuko gets it. 

Instead, Sokka clears his throat and says, “I needed a new challenge.”

Zuko nods in understanding. From the moment that Sokka stepped off the ship that morning, Zuko found himself wondering if Sokka’s decision to leave Republic City was swayed by his history there, if he saw his chance to get away from it all and took it. And while Sokka has just admitted as such, Zuko also knows that he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t want to. 

So instead of coaxing more out of Sokka, instead of asking him to open up or ripping the bandage off his still-healing wound, he reaches over to place a hand on his shoulder and says, “I’m glad to have you here.”

At that, Sokka finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling and turns to look at him, his eyes shining with emotion, but a genuine smile pulling at his lips. A hand reaches up to cover Zuko’s own as he murmurs, “I’m glad to be here.”

And Zuko knows that he means it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One last note:
> 
> This past year has been incredibly challenging and scary for everyone. If you need someone to talk to, my inbox is always open. Check in on your friends. Take care of yourself. Reach out to someone if you're struggling. This world is much more beautiful with you in it. 
> 
> ❤️❤️❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! Not gonna lie, this is one of the longest and most in-depth fics I've ever worked on and I'm really nervous about sharing it, so please be gentle!
> 
> Chapter count might change as well! I'm about halfway finished writing and chapters tend to get away from me, so I'm sure it'll end up being a little longer than planned. I'll also try to keep updates as regular as possible!
> 
> ALSO, I'm thinking of making a Spotify playlist of the songs that I use as chapter titles/songs I was listening to while writing this if anyone is interested!


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